Prisoner of Fate
by CheySkywalker
Summary: Fleeing an arranged marriage in Morrowind, Alanna arrives in Cyrodiil alone and unknown. Follow her adventures as she makes friends and enemies, and finds the fate that awaits her as the Shadow-Lion of prophecy. Eventual Oblivion Main Quest run-through.
1. A Special Child

**(A/N) Welcome to **_**Prisoner of Fate**_**. This story tells the tale of my Hero of Kvatch, Alanna, as she makes a name for herself in Cyrodiil. The prologue that you are about to read is told from the point of view of Alanna's mother, Drelasa Ginith. Before we get into the story, I would like all of you to take a look at my ****Golden Rule****, which is posted on my profile page. I'll wait for you to get back.**

** u/4167926/CheySkywalker**

**Have you read the ****Golden Rule****? Excellent! With these things in mind, let us start our adventure!**

* * *

_Prologue- A Special Child_

It was the twenty-first of First Seed, in the four hundred eighth year of the Third Era. It was a special day in Narsis, the House Hlaalu capital of Morrowind. It was Hogithum, the sacred summoning day of the Daedric Prince Azura. And at six o'clock that evening, as the sun was setting and dusk fell over the land, becoming the most sacred time of that sacred day, a little girl was born.

I knew my daughter was something special from the first time I laid eyes on her. It had been a long, difficult labor, and I was thoroughly worn out by the time I finally heard my child cry for the first time. The healer that had helped me through the labor exclaimed over her beauty.

"She is a sight to behold, Sera Ginith," the healer said, placing my child in my arms. As I looked down at her, her eyelids opened, revealing two beautiful reddish-purple orbs. One day, they would distinguish her from other lava-eyed Dunmer. She had a mop of hair darker than midnight, sticking up in some places. Her little round face was solemn, gazing up at me with a focus that one of her young age should not have.

I knew from the moment that I met my daughter's eyes that she would become someone great. Her name had been recorded in the Elder Scrolls, and would someday be forever woven into the fabric of history. I knew that this baby girl would one day twist the strings of Fate around her fingers, would hold the existence of this world in her hands. She would be a power unlike none ever seen.

My husband Reynis entered the birthing room, permitted at last to come to my side. He gazed down at the tiny miracle we had created together, an unreadable emotion in his ruby eyes. "She is beautiful, Drelasa," he said softly.

"She is something special," I agreed, holding my daughter close. She closed her beautiful eyes, releasing me from her too-focused stare. I looked up at Reynis. "Her name is Alaurne," I told him.

Something came into place when I spoke those words, something great and binding. A piece of history had just been brought into this world, I knew. I made a quick prayer to Azura, my patron, to notice and protect this child, born at her most sacred of times.

* * *

My Alaurne soon lost the solemnity that had struck me after her birth. She was a rambunctious and adventurous child, constantly running off to go play swords with the neighborhood children, much to her father's disapproval. Reynis was slowly gaining power in House Hlaalu, and he wanted Alaurne to learn her role as a lady of the House. She resisted our efforts to teach her how to be a lady, complaining of boredom and sneaking off to go play.

I honestly didn't mind her resistance, as I saw no use in being a lady except to be married off to some noble, as I had been. I didn't want that kind of future for my daughter. Besides, the thought of how important she would be one day remained with me, and I did not feel that she was reaching her fullest potential by learning dancing and embroidery. So I let her go off to play swords with the other children, hoping that I could someday convince Reynis to let her be taught the art of swordplay. She would be a competent warrior, I knew, perhaps as fierce as my older brothers had been before they left home. I felt that knowing the sword would help her fulfill her destiny.

Alaurne grew from a rambunctious little girl to a beautiful young woman. Her eyes kept their reddish-purple color, like the rare rubellite gems that were sometimes found in mines. They captured one's attention easily, making it hard to notice the rest of her beauty. She was tall for a Dunmer, and very slender, well-muscled from years of practicing archery without her father's permission. Her skin was a delicate shade of light blue-grey, with a pale golden undertone when she was in the sunlight. Her heart-shaped face was framed by her raven-black hair, which was so dark that it reflected light like a mirror of midnight. It was very long, falling straight to her waist with only the slightest wave. She was one of the greatest beauties Narsis had ever seen, and she became known as the Rose of House Hlaalu.

Like a rose, though, she had sharp thorns. Alaurne had little tolerance for things and people she did not like, and she had no qualms about letting people know how much she didn't like them. She also had a keen intelligence and incredible insight, with an inborn talent for insulting and angering others.

I feared for her safety when she informed some of the House Hlaalu councilors that she absolutely detested them and the House itself. She had little disregard for her own well-being, entering into verbal battles with powerful men who could order her death as easily as they could laugh off her insults. It made her father furious when she acted in this way, and arguments between the two of them were a common occurrence in our home. But there was one argument that I would never forget, no matter how long I live.

* * *

It was the first day of Sun's Height, in the year 427. Alaurne was nineteen years old, the perfect age for marriage to one of the high-ranking nobles of the House. Reynis had been searching for a man who would be willing to marry her, as her sharp tongue had earned as much of a reputation in Narsis as her beauty. He finally found one; the Elder Councilor that represented House Hlaalu.

Llondryn Serethi was a powerful man, but a cruel one; his second wife had died under mysterious circumstances, and rumors still went around about the terrible illness that had claimed his first. I had no wish for my daughter to be married to such a man, but Reynis insisted, pressing for the engagement.

When Alaurne was told about the engagement, she was livid. Never in my life had I seen such terrible fury, nor heard such violent words. I was terrified that she would kill her own father. When she finally stormed into her room, slamming the door so hard it knocked dishes from the shelves, Reynis left to drink his own anger away with his friends. I remained in the sitting room, for the first time actually scared of my own daughter.

She emerged from her room some time later, carrying a bag and her bow over her shoulder. When she saw me, she slowed, but then walked to where I sat. "I'm leaving, Mother," she said, stopping in front of me. "I'm going to Cyrodiil."

For a long moment, I simply stared at her, unable to speak. When I found my voice again, I said, "Then I have something for you to give to someone." I stood and went into my bedroom, retrieving a necklace from my jewelry box. I handed it to Alaurne, who gazed at it in confusion. "Somewhere in Cyrodiil—I don't know exactly where—there is a Dunmer warrior named Modryn Oreyn. Give him this necklace, and tell him this: 'Thou art as deadly as the thorns of the black rose which blooms only in thy mother's breast'. He will know what it means."

"'Thou art as deadly as the thorns of the black rose which blooms only in thy mother's breast'." Alaurne nodded. "I will find him."

I hugged my daughter tightly. "Then go, my Alaurne, with my blessing." I gently kissed her forehead, then released her. "Walk with virtue and honor, and never forget your pride."

"I'll find a way to come back," she said earnestly. "Someday. I promise."

"I shall wait for you," I replied, feeling the first of what would be many tears start to course down my cheek. "Go. Your future lies outside of Narsis now."

With a final glance in my direction, she ran to the door, slipping out into the night. I retreated to my bedroom, getting ready for bed in silence. When Reynis returned, I would tell him that Alaurne must have slipped out while I slept. She would not have to marry for his power.

As I lay crying in bed, I felt something shift. It wasn't physical, but something in the ever-changing future. In leaving Narsis, Alaurne was taking another step in fulfilling her destiny; the one that I was so sure would make her great. That thought offered me some comfort as I cried myself to sleep.

* * *

**(A/N) I am usually a big stickler for lore, but I don't really know much about House Hlaalu or their politics. So I took a bit of artistic liberty with it.**

**Also, with the sera/muthsera thing: I had two different sources tell me different things on which term to use for which gender. So I just went with one and stuck with it. Females are "sera", males are "muthsera". Since we deal with a lot of Dunmer in this story, this is pretty important.**


	2. Arrival in Cheydinhal

_Chapter 1- Arrival in Cheydinhal_

After weeks of traveling in the night, avoiding anyone on the roads in fear that they might recognize me, I arrived in the Cyrodiilic city of Cheydinhal on the 4th of Last Seed. It was a lovely city, with clean air and a small river running through the center. I wandered about for quite a while, admiring the scenery.

Eventually, I approached a building with a sign reading "Newlands Lodge". Assuming that it was an inn of some sort, I opened the door and walked in.

The common room of the inn was empty except for a young Dunmer woman behind the bar. "Greetings, my Dunmer sister," she said, smiling at me. Her voice carried the faintest hint of a Morrowind accent. "Welcome to Newlands Lodge, the best place to drink in Cheydinhal. Not counting the Chapel..." She laughed. "I'm Dervera Romalen." She leaned on the bar, examining me with fiery red eyes.

"This is a Dunmer bar, sister. Cursing, spitting, and screaming? No problem. Fighting is fine with me, too, only the Guard objects, and they'll fine you or lock you up. Not my call." She shrugged. "So, what can I get for you? I've got beds, food, and plenty of alcohol."

"I'll take something to eat—whatever you have is fine—and a room," I replied. "I don't know how long I'll be staying."

Dervera recognized my accent. "Fresh from Morrowind?" she asked, grabbing a plate and loading it with bread and fruit. "So was I, once." She set the plate down in front of one of the barstools, motioning for me to sit. "What's your name, sister?"

"Alanna." When I was younger, one of the councilors—a wizened old man who should have been spending his time relaxing by a fire rather than running a Great House—had been completely unable to pronounce my name. Something was wrong with his speech, in the way that he couldn't pronounce the letter 'r' to save his life. So he had called me 'Alanna', which gave him the added bonus of annoying me beyond belief. I thought I could trust this woman, but it wasn't smart to go throwing my real name about. Alanna was a suitable substitute.

"Alanna." Dervera looked skeptical, but she didn't question it. "Well, sister, since you're new to Cyrodiil, I'll give you some advice. Don't let the Imperials wear you down. They'll try to shove their religion on you, they'll call you racist names, and they'll definitely try to hold you to the stereotype of promiscuous young Dunmer girls. Don't let 'em. We may not be in Morrowind anymore, but we still have Dunmeri pride." She looked me over. "You look like you could be a decent warrior. Join the Fighters Guild, learn how to fight. A pretty young girl like you is potential prey, but a Dunmer warrior is a predator, and the Imperials know it."

"Thank you for the advice, sera. I will definitely consider it. How much is a room here?"

"Ten septims a night," she replied, grabbing a key from under the bar. "You're welcome to stay as long as you like."

I handed her the ten septims for the room, as well as ten more for the food. "Thank you, sera," I said with a smile as she handed me the key.

"No problem, sister. And stop calling me 'sera'. We Dunmer have to stick together, and I am definitely not someone to be respected. The rooms upstairs, first door on your left."

I left the common room without argument, passing a Redguard man on the stairs. Unlocking the door to my room, I walked in and tossed my bag on the bed. I leaned my bow against the wall, my quiver next to it.

I sat down on the bed, considering my options. My main goal was to find this Modryn Oreyn fellow my mother had told me about. I pulled the necklace she gave me out from under my shirt, examining the pendant once more. It was wooden, carved into a likeness of a rose and painted black. Although it seemed simple, it must have held some significance to my mother, and possibly to Modryn Oreyn. I tucked it back under my shirt, then returned to my thoughts.

Dervera had given me an idea when she suggested joining the Fighters Guild. They could train me in the art of swordplay, like I had always wanted. They could also teach me better techniques for my bow. I was a decent shot, but my practices were few and far between, the result of my father not actually permitting me to learn archery.

I decided to go to the Fighters Guild and ask them to take me in. Even if they didn't want me, such a well-known and well-traveled group of warriors would likely be able to point me in a general direction to find Modryn Oreyn. It was better than just sitting around doing nothing, anyway. I grabbed my bow and quiver and slung them over my shoulder, sticking my key in my pocket as I left the room.

* * *

Several minutes later found me face-to-face with an unimpressed-looking Orc. "I'm Burz gro-Khash," he said in greeting, looking me over. "You here to join the Guild?"

"I suppose so, sir," I replied. "That is, if you're the Guild head here."

"Yeah, I'm in charge of this hellhole." He nodded to my bow. "You know how to use that thing?"

"Yes, sir, though I could use more training."

"You can always use more training, boot," he growled. "Follow me."

Burz led me to a door which I presumed led to the basement. He opened it, motioning for me to go through. "Ladies first, eh?" He grinned, and I had to laugh as I went through the door and down the steps.

The basement was spacious, with a large training area in the center and a small forge set up. A Breton man in heavy-looking armor was working at the forge, but he set what he was working on down when I came in. "New member, eh?" he asked with a smile. "Welcome to the Guild. I'm Edwyn, Fighters Guild Porter and armorer."

"Cut the chatter, Edwyn," Burz said, stomping down the steps. "She's gonna need something light. Leather, probably. You got a preference, boot?"

"No, sir," I replied, shaking my head. I had never worn armor before, but it couldn't be worse than the cumbersome gowns I had worn for some House Hlaalu parties.

"I think leather would do well for you," Edwyn said, grabbing a length of string from a nearby table. "I'll just need your measurements, and I'll have a set of solid leather armor ready by this evening."

Edwyn quickly took my measurements, and Burz handed me a leather armband with a small patch on it. "Welcome to the Guild, boot. I'll do a basic assessment of your abilities here, then I'll probably send you on to headquarters in Chorrol for further training. You know any weapons besides the bow?"

"No, sir, though I'd like to learn the sword."

"Yeah, you'll be going to Chorrol. First, show me what you can do with that bow."

I pulled my bow off my shoulder and got into position facing a target against the wall of the training area. Grabbing an arrow from my quiver, I nocked, aimed, and fired within the space of a few seconds. The arrow went into the center ring of the target with a dull _thud_.

"Not bad," Burz said, nodding. "Can you do it again?"

In response, I nocked another arrow. _Thud_. Another. _Thud_. One by one, each of my arrows clustered themselves within the center and inner rings. Although I didn't have much practice, I had a bit of natural talent with archery.

"Okay, you're a decent shot," he said. "At least you'll manage to defend yourself on the way to Chorrol. I'll put that in my report. Something Modryn won't have to teach you."

"Modryn?" I asked. If he was talking of the same Modryn I was looking for…

"Yeah, Modryn Oreyn. He's the Fighters Guild Champion, out of our headquarters in Chorrol. Nasty temper, but he's one hell of a warrior. The recruits that go through him end up being the best the Guild has to offer. If they can survive him that long, anyway." He looked me over. "Maybe having another Dunmer around will calm him down for a bit."

What luck! I had thought that I would have to search all around the province for Modryn Oreyn, yet here I was, being sent right to him. Fortune was definitely with me on this day. I smiled as I went to collect my arrows from the target.

I spent the rest of the day talking to my new guildmates. One, a Nord named Sten, quickly became my new best friend. "Hey, another new boot!" he exclaimed, clapping me on the shoulder. "Welcome to the Guild, my friend. I'm Sten."

"Call him 'Sten the Ugly'." Another Orc, Brag gro-Bharg, grinned at me. "He loves it."

I looked at Sten, frowning. "I've seen some ugly Nords in my day, my friend, and I'm afraid to say you don't make that list." It was true. Some of the Nords who came into Narsis were disgusting brutes. Sten seemed pretty clean, and relatively well-mannered.

"See, here's one who won't play your games, Brag," Sten said. "I like you, kid. What's your name?"

"Alanna," I replied with a smile.

"Alanna." He nodded. "I like it. If ever I have a daughter, I'm naming her Alanna."

"It does sound almost Nordic." A Redguard woman came tromping up to me, looking me over and smiling. "I'm Rienna. Been in the Guild for two years now. Welcome to the family, friend."

"So, are you going to Anvil or Chorrol?" Sten asked me. "I'm bound for Anvil, which is fine with me. I hear Modryn can be a bear to the new recruits."

"Oh, I'm going to Chorrol," I said. "Is he really that terrible?"

"He isn't that bad, as long as you're capable," Rienna assured me. "So long as you honestly try, he'll put up with you. He just doesn't have much of a sense of humor."

"He doesn't have a sense of humor at all," Brag interjected. "But Rienna's right. As long as you don't slack off, you'll get along fine."

* * *

That night, after I had gone back to Newlands Lodge, I sat on my bed in silent meditation. I would set off for Chorrol the next morning, and learn how to fight like I had always wanted. After that… who knew? I might join the Mages' Guild, and learn to use magic. I might go adventuring, and find great treasure. I might go on a pilgrimage to the Shrine of Azura, like my mother had always wanted to. The possibilities were endless.

But first, I would go to Chorrol and meet Modryn Oreyn. I wondered how my mother had known him. I supposed I would find that out when I met him. As I got ready for bed, I felt excitement over my newfound freedom.

* * *

**(A/N) The idea for the leather armband and guild patch was shamelessly stolen from LadyDragon1316's story **_**The Wolf of Cyrodiil**_**. I strongly suggest you go and read it; it's an interesting story. Just remember to follow the ****Golden Rule**** while you're over there!**


	3. Welcome to Chorrol

_Chapter 2- Welcome to Chorrol_

The trip from Cheydinhal to Chorrol was rather uneventful. Burz had given me directions and handed me a map of Cyrodiil, then sent me on my way with the common Fighters Guild farewell of, "Go hurt something".

It was a foggy morning, and therefore I didn't see the Imperial City until I was already on the Red Ring Road that surrounded Lake Rumare. When the sun finally dispersed the fog, I had to stop for a moment in wonder.

I had thought Cheydinhal was a beautiful city, but that was before I caught sight of the Imperial capital. The Imperial City was shining and white, sitting on an island in the center of a sparkling lake. In the center of the city was the famed White-Gold Tower, taller than any structure I had ever seen. I had read that the Tower was visible from any part of the City, and now I believed it could be seen from any part of the province. The entire city shone with the light of Magnus, dazzling my eyes. I immediately vowed to go there someday.

As I continued on the Red Ring Road, I found several things to mark on my new map. A couple of old Imperial forts, a little inn, and some shining white structures that could only be the ruins of the ancient Ayleid civilization. I marked each thing down as I found it, though I had no intention of ever going inside an Ayleid ruin. I had read that they were mostly tombs, and every good Dunmer knew better than to disturb the dead.

* * *

Chorrol was a beautiful city, as well; not as spectacular as the Imperial City, of course, but easily as pretty as Cheydinhal. As I walked through the South Gate—held open for me by a very polite guard—I found myself unsure of where to go. Burz had mentioned something about a Great Oak, but I didn't see any giant trees anywhere. Of course, my vision was blocked by a rather large statue of a person kneeling over a fallen soldier.

"Hello!" I turned at the sound of someone's voice, and saw a little Argonian girl of about eleven bouncing towards me. "I'm Dar-Ma. I don't think we've met. Are you new in town?"

I was a little taken aback by the girl's friendliness. In Narsis, Argonians were quiet and not very friendly, but that was because most of them were former slaves. The most I had ever heard from them were some impressive profanities that had made my mother faint when I repeated them.

"Um, yes, I'm new in town," I replied. "I'm Alanna."

"Greetings, Alanna! I'm always glad to meet someone new. Welcome to Chorrol! I'm sure my mother would be glad to meet you as well."

"Your mother?" I asked.

"Yes, my mother is Seed-Neeus," the girl said. "She owns Northern Goods and Trade, that store right there." She pointed to a building not far away. "She says I'm too forward with strangers, but you seem really nice."

"Um, thank you." I was still trying to get over the fact that I was having a civilized conversation with an Argonian. "Could you please direct me to the Fighters Guild hall?"

"Oh, I was just heading in that direction. Follow me!" She began to bounce away, and I hurried to keep up with her. I felt a small smile come onto my face as I realized that when I was her age, I acted much the same.

There was indeed a Great Oak in Chorrol, but that statue by the gate had completely blocked my view of it. It was a large tree, obviously very old. People milled about in the small plaza around it, talking amongst themselves. It was quite lovely.

"Are you an adventurer?" Dar-Ma asked me. "I wanted to be an adventurer, but Miss Sabine told me that it wasn't as fun as it sounds."

"I'm not an adventurer yet, but I want to be one," I said. "Where I grew up, there was a man who came into town from time to time. He brought amazing treasures from the places he had visited, and told all the local children about the adventures he had." The man's name was Tininnus Scinia, and my father had always told me to stay away from him, but every time he showed up in town I would sneak away to hear his stories. It was his stories that had made me first want to learn the sword.

"Will you tell me about your adventures when you have them?" Dar-Ma asked. "There aren't many adventurers here, just Honditar the hunter, and Miss Sabine won't tell me stories. She said she doesn't want to give me the wrong ideas."

I looked down at the girl's earnest orange eyes, another smile threatening to break through. She reminded me of my own childhood, dreaming of excitement and adventure. "I'll tell you some stories," I promised.

"Thank you!" she cried, hugging my legs. I was a bit taken aback, but smiled again. She was a sweet child. She let go of me, then pointed to a large building with familiar red banners on it. "That's the Fighters Guild hall. I'll let you go so you can have some adventures!" She skipped away, a large smile on her reptilian face. I chuckled to myself, then went to enter the Fighters Guild.

My first sight in the Chorrol Fighters Guild hall was a short Dunmer shouting at a young Breton woman who looked as if she had been drinking a lot. "How am I supposed to train you if you're constantly drunk?" he yelled, making her wince. "You've got potential, Jerick, but if you can't quit acting like a drunken s'wit, you're worthless to me and to the Guild! Get out of my sight, and you better be completely sober the next time I see you!"

The Breton stumbled her way past me and out of the building, muttering curses to herself. I hesitantly walked forward, to where the man was standing with his head in his hands. "Excuse me, muthsera," I said hesitantly.

His head whipped up, and a stoic mask came onto his face. "Greetings. I'm the Fighters Guild Champion, Modryn Oreyn. I don't believe we've met."

"We haven't, muthsera," I said. I pulled out the small folder of papers Burz had given me, handing them to him. "I'm new to the Guild, and the head of the Cheydinhal guildhall told me to come to you for training."

Modryn opened the folder and quickly skimmed over the papers, glancing up at me from time to time. "Alanna, eh?" he asked, closing the folder. "No family name?"

"None that I care to use," I replied, gazing at him levelly.

"Well, that's your choice. Do you drink?"

"Not very often."

"Then you're my favorite recruit." Modryn set the folder down on a nearby table. "So, Burz says you want to learn the sword?"

I nodded. "I know the bow, but I wish to expand my knowledge of weaponry."

"A wise decision," he said, nodding. "Come with me."

I followed Modryn down to the basement, where a Breton woman was working at a forge. "Good afternoon, Modryn," She set down the sword she had been hammering. "Alison giving you trouble again?"

"That girl is worthless to me if she doesn't get her act together," Modryn snarled. "You're supposed to be helping her with that, Sabine."

"I tried, Modryn, but you can only lead a horse to water," Sabine said, crossing her arms over her chest. She looked at me. "Another new recruit?"

"Yep, from Cheydinhal," Modryn gestured to the woman. "Alanna, this is Sabine Laul, our armorer and expert on the local area. Sabine, meet Alanna."

"A pleasure," Sabine said. "Welcome to Chorrol. You need something repaired, or some advice on the local country, I'm the one to talk to."

Modryn, who had walked away while Sabine was talking, waved me over. I walked to where he was examining a rack of swords. "Do you have any previous experience with the sword?" he asked me.

"No, muthsera,"

"Good. I don't have to erase a previous instructor's mistakes." He picked a sword from the rack, handing it to me. "Step back a bit and give it a few swings. Tell me how it feels."

I stepped away from him, swinging the sword experimentally. "It's lighter than I expected," I said.

He took the sword back. "You're stronger than you look." He looked over the rack, picking another one. "It should be a bit heavy, but not overly so."

After a few more tries, I finally got a sword that was heavy enough. "Good. Now, we're going to start with some basic swings on old Scotti here." He gestured to the wooden training dummy in the center of the room.

I looked at the dummy, seeing that someone had painted a smiling face on its head. I shook my head and gripped the sword's hilt tightly, looking to Modryn for instruction.

He was examining my stance, nodding to himself. "You've obviously got some natural instinct," he said quietly. "Not many have such a good stance the first time they hold a sword. Now, swing for Scotti's neck."

I swung as directed, aiming for the joint where the dummy's head connected with its torso. There was a _clang_ of metal against metal as my sword hit the links.

"Good. Now, hit his side."

I spent the next hour beating on Scotti. Then Modryn spent another hour teaching me how to block different kinds of strikes. He allowed me to take a short break, looking mildly impressed. "You've got potential, but you still have a lot to learn. Take a break for now. We'll start the real work later." He turned to Sabine. "Do you have any other swords like this one? It suits her well."

* * *

**(A/N) Decumus Scotti is the main character in ****the **_**A Dance in Fire **_**series and **_**The Argonian Account **_**series. He isn't the most pleasant character, which is why the training dummy is named after him. Sometimes, I just have too much fun with the lore.**


	4. Panthers and Black Roses

**(A/N) Warning: This chapter contains combat. Don't worry, it isn't messy or anything; I'm just really bad at writing combat.**

* * *

_Chapter 3- Panthers and Black Roses_

After I had taken a short break to eat and rest my sore muscles, Modryn was ready to resume my training with the sword. "Now that I can see you won't end up killing yourself on your sword, we can begin real training." He handed me the sword I had used earlier, grabbing another one for himself. "Are you ready?"

I held the sword, looking at Modryn in surprise. I hadn't expected to face another person so soon. "I guess so," I said hesitantly.

He frowned. "That's not an answer. Either you're ready, or you're not. Which is it?" I heard another, silent question underneath his words. Was I worthy of his teaching, or was I just another worthless piece of meat?

I steeled myself, tightening my grip on the sword and falling into my stance. "I'm ready," I declared.

That was all that he needed. He came at me like an angry kagouti, his sword swinging for my neck. I blocked instinctively, my eyes widening. His eyes were blank and expressionless as he swung again, this time aiming for my sword arm.

He gave me no respite, attacking again and again and leaving me no choice but to block or be hit. I acted purely on instinct and adrenaline, blocking him before he could hit something vital. There was no chance for me to counterattack. He was a predator, his sword an extension of his deadly force. I was nothing to him, just prey, my attempts to protect myself futile.

_No_. I rejected those thoughts, gritting my teeth as I blocked a particularly strong swing. He may be a predator, but I was _not_ prey. Before he could swing at me again, I attacked, snarling like a rabid wolf as my sword flew towards his side. He blocked it easily, but I attacked again, aiming for his leg.

Finally, an emotion came into those previously blank red eyes. Wariness. He backed away, circling me with animal-like intensity. We were no longer mer, but animals, mountain cats fighting for dominance.

We circled each other for a long moment, then he attacked again, his sword flashing towards my wrist. I instinctively turned away, then darted in while he was recovering from the sudden unbalance. We engaged each other again, swords crashing together as we growled at each other.

I was blind to the rest of the world, my only focus on my opponent and his weapon. He attacked again, forcing me to back up or be hit in the face. He pressed on, forcing me back until I felt my back hit the wall. I was cornered. I watched as he pulled his arm back for the swing that would take off my head, unable to notice anything else.

As the sword descended towards my unprotected neck, I did something that surprised even me. I ducked, rolling away as his sword scraped against the stones. As he turned around, I stood, attacking with a savagery I didn't know I possessed. And the fight began anew.

After what seemed like hours, but could only have been minutes, he got his chance. I had overstepped, leaving me temporarily unbalanced. He pressed his advantage, attacking and knocking my sword from my hands. It clattered against the floor as he pushed me to the ground, standing over me with his sword at my throat.

I froze, staring up at him in shock. His fiery eyes held a merciless ferocity that slowly faded as he gazed down at me, replaced by grudging approval. He removed his sword from my neck, holding his hand out to help me up.

"Excellent job, Panther," he said, clapping my shoulder. "Keep that up, and I might be able to turn you into a decent swordsman."

I smiled hesitantly. "Thank you, muthsera." I sensed that this mer was one who did not give compliments freely, and that I must have done very well to get one from him.

I turned to pick up my sword, and found that there was a large crowd of people watching me with wide eyes. I stared back at them, a slight blush coloring my cheeks. Slowly, they dispersed, glancing back at me occasionally.

"Don't mind them," Modryn said. "They're not used to watching real Dunmer fight. I usually have to hold myself back for the new boots." He looked at me, curiosity in his gaze. "You come from a Redoran family?" he asked.

"No, muthsera," I replied, shaking my head. "My father's a merchant for House Hlaalu." At least, he used to be. He hadn't so much as looked at the wares he supposedly sold since he became a House Cousin.

Modryn snorted. "No wonder you left," he said, shaking his head. "Sorry. I don't mean to insult your family, but House Hlaalu is bad business." His eyes grew distant, and I imagined he must have had a run-in with the House that was less than pleasant. "Anyway, we're done for the evening. You might as well go upstairs and get to know your guildmates." He walked away, and I heard the basement door shut behind him.

I stood still for a moment, but then remembered that I had something to give him. I set the sword aside and ran up the steps, flying out of the Guild hall.

Modryn was walking down the street beyond the Great Oak, his shoulders slumped. "Muthsera!" I called, running after him. I pulled my mother's necklace from under my armor. "Muthsera Oreyn!"

He turned around, frowning. "What do you want?" he asked.

I stopped in front of him, the necklace clutched in my hands. What was I supposed to tell him? I shoved the necklace at him, my face turning red. "Th-thou art as deadly as the thorns of the black rose which blooms only in thy mother's breast," I stammered.

His eyes widened in shock. "Thou hast all that is graceful in thy brothers of the day, yet thy mother is the moon, and thou art her child of the night..." he murmured staring at the necklace in my hands. He looked up at me, and his eyes hardened. "Come with me," he said, taking the necklace from me. He turned and walked away, his stride purposeful.

I stumbled after him, unsure of his destination. He didn't seem angry, just…determined. He led me down the street, past the statue at the southern gate and the store that Dar-Ma's mother owned. We went down another street, passing more stores and a few houses, and the city's chapel. He turned and walked to a small wooden house, opening the door, and waiting for me to go inside.

I walked inside warily, finding myself in a sparsely decorated home. Modryn came in after me, shutting the door behind him. "Where did you get this?" he asked, looking at the necklace.

"My mother gave it to me," I replied apprehensively. While he made no move to attack me, his presence made me acutely aware of the fact that I was unarmed. Why had I left that sword in the Guild hall? "She told me to find you and give it to you."

"Did she tell you to say what you did?" he asked. I nodded. "What is your mother's name?"

"Drelasa Ginith."

His entire countenance changed. "She's alive?" he asked, his eyes widening. "And you're her daughter?" I nodded again, relieved to see that he didn't look like he was going to attack me.

"Then I suppose that makes you my niece," he said, looking a little surprised.

"Really?" I asked, just as surprised. My mother had never told me about her family, and I had never met any of her relatives. I only knew my father's side of the family, and they were all affiliated with House Hlaalu in some form or another.

He nodded. "Alanna. That isn't your real name, is it?"

"It is now, muthsera," I replied, bowing my head. "I would prefer not to use my birth name. Should someone come looking for me, I want to be as hard to find as possible."

He nodded again. "If that's what you wish," he said. He looked down at the necklace in his hand, then held it out to me. "Here, this should remain with you."

I glanced at the necklace, its black rose pendant swinging back and forth. "Are you sure? My mother told me to give it to you."

"Just knowing that she's still alive is enough," he replied. "You should keep it. I know well the pain of being separated from those you love, even if it's by choice. Keep it as a reminder of your mother."

I hesitantly took the necklace back, pulling it over my head and tucking the pendant underneath my cuirass. "Thank you, muthsera," I said.

"You're welcome. Now, go on back to the Guild hall. Get some rest. We'll continue training in the morning."

In the Guild hall, Sabine had designated a bed for me in the living quarters. "No one will bother your stuff," she said, pointing out the small chest at the foot of the bed for my things. "Oh, and this is for you." She handed me a sheathed sword, smiling at my exclamation of surprise. "Modryn gave you a nickname, so you're stuck with us now, whether you like it or not. Welcome to the Chorrol chapter, Panther."

* * *

**(A/N) I was doing a bit of research and found out that in **_**Arena**_**, when you choose to be a Dark Elf, you are told this: "**_**Thy race is as deadly as the thorns of the black rose which blooms only in thy mother's breast. Thou hast all that is graceful in thy brothers of the day, yet thy mother is the moon, and thou art her children of the night...**_**" Not only is it a fun bit of lore, but it also sounds really pretty, so I decided to add it in for fun.**


	5. First Contract

_Chapter 4- First Contract_

I spent my first two weeks in the Fighters Guild in Chorrol, training and learning about my new family. The Chorrol fighters were a good group, with the sole exception of the drunken Breton woman, Alison Jerick. She continued to drink, slack off, and throw around racist insults, and one week after I came to Chorrol, she got kicked out of the Guild. I heard someone say she went off to the Imperial City.

I learned that the Fighters Guild's purpose was to provide a common, public place of training and study for warriors. The Guild was a professional organization, chartered by the Empire to regulate the hiring and training of mercenaries to protect commerce, capture or drive away beasts, and similar duties. It fulfilled those duties by performing contracts for the people of Cyrodiil.

I got my first contract two weeks after I joined the Fighters Guild, on the 19th of Last Seed. "Panther, you think you're ready for some action?" Modryn asked me one morning. I had just finished an intensive drill session, and was leaning against Scotti to catch my breath.

"If you think I'm ready, muthsera, then I am," I replied. "I trust your judgment."

"That's something that doesn't get said enough around here," he remarked, and I saw a flash of amusement enter his eyes before disappearing behind his stern mask. "Anyway, I got a job down in Kvatch for you. We don't have a Guild hall down there, so usually the Skingrad or Anvil halls get the contracts. But this one was sent up for you. Go down there and find a Redguard woman named Tonilia. She'll tell you what to do."

Sabine found me packing my bag in preparation for my departure. "Got your first contract, did you?" She smiled. "Hope you like rats."

"Rats?" I asked.

"Yeah. It's the unofficial Fighters Guild initiation test. Your first contract always has something to do with rats." She chuckled. "I had to save some crazy woman's pet rats from being killed by mountain lions. Who knows what you'll get?"

"Thanks for the warning," I said, hitching my bag over my shoulder. "I'll see you when I get back."

Outside the Guild hall, by the Great Oak, I found Dar-Ma. "Are you going somewhere?" she asked, bouncing to my side.

"Yep," I replied, smiling down at her. Over the past two weeks, I had seen her more often, and now her friendly nature didn't surprise me. "I'm heading down to Kvatch."

"Will you be back soon?" she asked.

"I should only be gone for maybe two days at the most. Apparently, I'm just going to fight some rats."

"Be careful. Rats are full of diseases," she advised me, her young face solemn.

Dar-Ma accompanied me to the southern gate. "Have fun in Kvatch!" she exclaimed, hugging me before bouncing towards her mother's store. Sharing a smile with the guard at the gate, I left Chorrol.

* * *

The trip from Chorrol to Kvatch was short, thanks to my excellent sense of direction and a handy compass rendering the use of roads unnecessary. I found many more places to add to my map, including a Daedric shrine dedicated to Sanguine. Although I had no interest in becoming a devotee of the Lord of Debauchery, it was a good place to stop and take a quick break before continuing my travels.

The worshippers were polite, though they seemed rather downcast for a group of revelers. I became curious, and through copious use of every sweet-talking skill I had learned growing up in House Hlaalu, I found out that they had recently lost several of their fellow devotees to some terrible accident. I decided not to pry any more.

* * *

I arrived in Kvatch in the early afternoon, worn out from the hike up the single winding road. The place was heavily defended by the plateau it rested on alone. The guard at the gate seemed friendly enough, letting me in and telling me to have a nice day.

Compared to Cheydinhal and Chorrol, Kvatch couldn't hope to win any awards for Cyrodiil's most beautiful city. But what it lacked in aesthetics, it made up for in excitement. The Kvatch Arena dominated the northeastern end of the city, and I could hear cheering coming from within. There were children running about, giggling and laughing in their play. A couple of older women stood in front of a store, trading the latest gossip. A young man was playing a lute, and had attracted a group of interested onlookers. The place was bustling.

"Is this your first time in Kvatch?" I turned and faced the person who spoke to me, meeting piercing eyes that were the color of ice. "It can be a little overwhelming to those who have never been here. Believe me, I know. I've only been here a week."

The man speaking to me was a young Imperial, perhaps in his mid-twenties. He was attractive in the Imperial way, with shoulder-length wavy brown hair and a handsomely carved face. Although he wore a plain grey robe, his physique suggested that he at least some training as a warrior. He seemed to be waiting for me to speak.

"Yes, it's my first time in Kvatch," I replied. "Would you happen to know where I can find a woman named Tonilia?"

"I believe she's in the Chapel right now," the man offered helpfully.

I frowned a little. In the short time I had been in Cyrodiil, I had been able to avoid going into one of the chapels. Dervera's advice on not letting the Imperials shove their religion on me was still strong, and I was apprehensive at entering one of their holy buildings.

But I knew I would have to someday. It might as well be now. "Thank you, sir," I said, turning and walking towards the great chapel. I hesitated for a moment at the door, but then took a deep breath and went in.

I was met by a Redguard woman at the door. "Welcome to the Chapel of Akatosh, my friend," she said with a smile. "I'm Oleta, the local healer. Can I help you?"

"I'm looking for a woman named Tonilia," I replied. "I was directed here."

"Are you from the Fighters Guild?" Another Redguard woman stood from one of the pews and approached me.

"Yes, ma'am," I replied, turning slightly to show her my armband. "I understand you requested the services of my Guild?"

She nodded. "Please, come with me."

I followed the woman out of the Chapel and down a residential street. "There are a ton of giant rats in my basement," she said, confirming what Sabine had told me. "I could normally deal with them on my own, but these ones are huge. Easily the size of a small dog. I went down to clean them out, and one gave me a nasty bite. That's why I called your Guild in."

"That's what we're here for."

Tonilia led me to a small house not far from the Arena. "Please clean them out for me," she said. "I can dispose of the carcasses, but I simply can't fight them on my own."

"Don't worry, I'll take care of them," I assured her with a smile. I opened the door to the house and went inside.

The little house was clean and well-organized. I spotted a trapdoor to the basement, and pried it open, the sound of scrabbling paws suddenly audible. Unsheathing my sword, I hopped down into the cellar.

Tonilia was right. These rats were _gigantic_. I had no idea how they had managed to get into her basement, but they had created a huge mess. One of them attacked me as soon as I landed, squeaking as it clawed my arm. I swung at it with my sword, hitting it with the flat of the blade. The force of my hit knocked it aside for a few moments, which was enough for me to steady myself.

There were no less than _five_ giant rats in poor Tonilia's basement. It took me the better part of thirty minutes to kill them all. They were tough; just when I had one down, one that I had thought was dead would jump up and attack me once again. Finally, all five were lying in pools of rat blood, and I had a dozen or so scratches on my arms and a nasty bite on my left wrist. I resolved to start wearing gauntlets.

Tonilia was waiting for me when I walked out of her house. "They're all dead, ma'am," I reported, much to her delight. She rewarded me with a little enchanted ring she had picked up as a curiosity and recommended that I go to the Chapel to make sure I wasn't infected.

I grudgingly took her advice. Despite my apprehension concerning the place, I really didn't want to catch some disease. So I reluctantly trudged back to the Chapel.

* * *

**(A/N) Because really, what's a first contract without rats?**

**Since this is six years before the Oblivion Crisis is set to take place, I felt like we needed a little pre-siege Kvatch. Since we'll likely be returning, I'll warn you now that most of my descriptions and NPCs for Kvatch are coming straight from my own mind. Artistic liberty, folks. It's a great (and scary) thing.**

**Now, does anyone recognize the attractive Imperial by the gate? If you need a hint, he's got the loveliest voice in Tamriel, at least until Ulfric Stormcloak comes along (and maybe not even then).**


	6. Far Too Perceptive

_Chapter 5- Far Too Perceptive_

The healer, Oleta, took one look at me and told me to sit down. "Do you mind if I have my student heal you?" she asked. "You are not seriously wounded, and he needs practice with restorative magic."

"I see no harm in it," I replied, shrugging. There was little damage, so little that if it weren't for the fact that I might be infected, I would have just bandaged myself and gone on with my life.

"Thank you, dear." She turned away from me. "Martin, come here, please," she called.

The young man that had spoken to me at the gate came over, curiosity in his icy-blue gaze. "Martin, this young woman has agreed to let you practice your healing skills on her," Oleta said. "I shall examine your work after you are finished." And with that, she walked away.

"You are a priest?" I asked the man as he sat down next to me.

"I am training to be one," he replied, examining my bitten wrist. "You are Fighters Guild?"

"An Associate, yes. That's why I got picked to take care of the rats."

"Is it an initiation test or something?" he asked. I felt him examining the bite with magic, checking for infection, I assumed.

"Yes," I replied, frowning at the strange feeling of magic in my body. My father had distrusted mages, and I was never permitted to be near one. As a result, I had rarely seen healers, and had only once had healing magic performed on me; when I was nine years old and very ill with blood rot. I had been too sick to remember what had happened to me during the healing, but I assumed it had felt like this.

"I suppose it makes sense," the man remarked. "If a person can't even fight rats, they probably wouldn't be a worthwhile member of the Fighters Guild. You seem to have done fine, though."

"Fortunately."

We sat in silence for a few moments, then he spoke again. "You have an interesting accent."

"I speak with the accent of Morrowind, for I have not been in Cyrodiil long enough to speak with your strange accent." I hissed as a burning sensation passed through my arm. "By Azura, what was that?"

"I apologize." The man frowned. "I was cleaning infection from your arm. The rats you fought carried blood lung." He closed his eyes, and I felt his magic examining my arm once more. "Your arm is clean of infection. I'm going to heal the wounds now."

It took all of my willpower not to jerk my arm away as my flesh knit back together, causing almost as much pain as the wounds themselves had. I gritted my teeth, frowning at the healer as he examined my now-whole arm.

"It looks healed to me, but Oleta will still want to examine it," he said. "Your other arm, please. You never did tell me your name."

"I do not believe it to be necessary information," I said as I held my other arm out to him.

"But I do." He looked up at me, and I froze.

To any other, his azure eyes would seem innocent, but I had been trained in reading faces by the greatest House of deceivers. I could see behind that thin veil of priestly innocence, see beyond to a sharp and calculating mind, reading my every reaction and memorizing it. And I could tell he was seeing through the quiet façade I was putting up, trying to find the truth behind my own veil. He was far too perceptive.

For some reason unknown to me, this man wanted to know all of my secrets. And he would learn them, no matter the cost. I could tell in that one glance, and it terrified me.

"My name is irrelevant," I snapped, my sudden spike of fear making my voice harsher than I intended. "A priest should know better than to pry."

"Forgive me," he said, looking down at my arm again. "I'm afraid I make a terrible priest."

We remained in a tense silence after that, and he healed my arm more quickly than he had before. "I shall fetch Oleta," he said, standing. "Remain here." He walked away, leaving me to sit alone on the pew.

"Let's see how he did, shall we?" Oleta held my forearms in her hands, closing her eyes as I felt magic examine me once more. "Everything looks clean, and is well-healed," she said. "You did exceptionally, Martin."

I stood, reaching into my coin purse to give the woman the standard donation for her services.

"Thank you," I said stiffly, handing Oleta the coins. "Good day to you both." I turned and left, but I couldn't shake the feeling of those piercing blue eyes on my back as I walked away.

* * *

Later that night, after I had returned to Chorrol and had reported to Modryn, I sat on my bed for my meditation, as was my custom. The others knew better than to bother me, after Darius—the porter for the Chorrol hall—had tried to interrupt me and got a boot to the face. I sat cross-legged in the center of my bed, trying to clear my mind as my mother had taught me.

But my mind refused to clear. Thoughts came unbidden to my mind, thoughts of the young priest in Kvatch who had been able to see past my disguise of character. He had managed to bring out the harsher side of my nature; the one that I had tried to suppress when I came into Cyrodiil, for fear that someone looking for me might recognize it. What kind of creature was this Imperial, this Martin, that he could bring out what I—a daughter of House Hlaalu, the masters of hidden natures—have tried so hard to hide?

I found no answers in my meditation. When I finally gave up and readied myself for bed, I knew that my dreams would be haunted by a pair of too-perceptive icy blue eyes.

* * *

**(A/N) Martin's going to be making a few comebacks from time to time, because he's just that awesome. I dare you to look into your soul and try to tell yourself that you don't love him. Go on, I know you can't.**


	7. Leaving?

_Chapter 6- Leaving?_

"… And the great stupid ogre lumbered _right past me_!"

Dar-Ma giggled as I made a face much like the one the ogre had worn. We were sitting under the Great Oak, enjoying an unexpectedly warm day. It was the 28th of Frostfall, and Modryn had given me the day off training as a reward for my dedication. I had decided to fulfill my promise of telling Dar-Ma stories of my adventures, of which I now had several.

"Did you get the sword you were looking for?" Nardhil, a little Dunmer girl about Dar-Ma's age, was also listening to my story. She stared at me with wide red eyes, the most attentive listener I had ever met. "You followed the rumors of an ogre with a beautiful sword. Did you find it?"

"I did get the sword," I said with a smile. "It was being carried by the chieftain of the ogres; the biggest and ugliest of them all. I had to fight him for the sword, and only when he lay on the ground dead was I able to retrieve it."

"What did the sword look like?" Dar-Ma asked. "Was it a shiny silver one, or one of those weird green ones?"

"The sword was made of ebony," I replied, "the color of Nardhil's hair, with gold on the hilt. And though it had been carried by the ogre for years, it was still sharp and beautiful.

"I took the sword and left that cave, and brought it back here, to Chorrol. I thought it was so beautiful, it would make a lovely gift for our lady Countess. So I took it to the Castle, and I presented it to her all wrapped in silk, like you should give a gift to a lady. And do you know what she told me?"

"What?" Dar-Ma asked. She was bouncing up and down in excitement, her orange eyes shining.

"Lady Valga told me that the sword I found had actually been stolen from the Castle long ago, and it was really the Honorblade of Chorrol." I smiled at the surprised look on the girls' faces. "She thanked me for returning it to her, and gave me a big heavy shield for my service to the County."

"I saw the shield," Dar-Ma said to Nardhil, sounding smug. "It's very pretty, black with a golden tree on it."

"Oh, there you are, Panther." I looked over my shoulder to see Vitellus Donton standing a short distance away, his younger brother Viranus beside him. He grinned at the girls, who both immediately started giggling. "I apologize, ladies, but I need to steal Alanna away from you."

"I need to get back to the stables anyway," Nardhil said, hopping to her feet. "My father will be wondering where I disappeared to."

"So will my mother. Thanks for the stories, Alanna!" The girls set off down the street, talking and giggling.

"You are far too much of a charmer," I said to Vitellus as I stood up. "What do you two want? I've got the day off from training, so don't even think of asking for help with archery."

"Hey, I can't help my natural good looks and charm." Vitellus grinned. "And I know better than to ask you for help with archery again. A fierce warrior you may be, Panther, but a teacher you definitely are not." We shared a laugh at the memory of me attempting to train Vitellus, and the unholy screaming match that had resulted from him not being able to understand my instructions. "Anyway, Oreyn's looking for you. Something about how you wanted the next Imperial City contract."

"He's got one?" My voice went up an octave in excitement. "I have to go see him before somebody takes it. Thanks for telling me, Vitellus."

The past few months had been the best of my life. When I wasn't on contract, I was in Chorrol or the surrounding area, training, chatting with other townsfolk, or hunting with Honditar or one of my Guildmates. I had made several friends, and had developed an interest in alchemy thanks to the local Mages Guild. It was a life I had never thought I would live, and I woke up every morning with a smile on my face and thanked Azura for letting me experience such happiness.

Oreyn was waiting for me just inside the Guild hall. "Panther, you said you wanted the next Imperial City contract?" he asked, holding a piece of paper.

"Yes, muthsera," I replied, nodding. In the months that I had been in Cyrodiil, I still hadn't found a chance to visit the Imperial capital. I had passed by it several times, and each time stopped to wonder at its beauty and wish I had the time for a visit.

"All right. Head down to the City and talk to Herminia Cinna. She's a scholar of the Ayleids, trying to write a book on their last king, last I heard. She needs someone to retrieve one of their artifacts for her research."

I nodded. "Find Herminia Cinna, get the artifact she's looking for. Is that it?"

"Yes. When you come back, I'll finally have to advance you."

"Oh?" I unconsciously flexed my left arm, feeling the leather band there. I had reached Apprentice rank several weeks ago, after completing a contract to clear out a goblin-infested mine. I was excited to reach Journeyman rank.

"Yeah, I should have promoted you after your last contract, but…" His voice trailed off, and he shrugged. "It's just that once you reach Journeyman, you're probably going to be moved to a different Guild hall."

"What? Why?"

He sighed. "Chorrol and Anvil are our two main halls for training new members. As such, when the new boots reach a decent rank, we usually have to send them somewhere else so that there's room for the members who still need training." He shook his head apologetically. "I'd love to keep you here, Panther, but the Guild needs you elsewhere. I promise, I won't let Vilena send you to Bravil or Leyawiin. I heard how much you hate the Niben." After being sent on a contract down in Bravil, I had complained to Sabine about it for a week.

I looked at Modryn, putting on a smile that we both knew was terribly fake. "I'll head out for the Imperial City this afternoon," I said brightly.

As I packed my travel bag to leave, I tried to find some measure of excitement. Unfortunately, most of it had dissipated the moment Modryn mentioned the Ayleids. I had been raised as a proper Dunmer, and any proper Dunmer knew better than to bandy about in tombs. I had already accepted the contract, and while I knew Modryn would understand my hesitation, the others would not.

And now there was the fact that once I finished the contract, I would probably be sent to another city. I understood that it was necessary, but I had grown to love Chorrol and her people. How many times had I sat down at The Grey Mare with my Guild mates, toasting a successful contract? How many times had I chatted with Honditar the hunter beneath the Great Oak, or laughed with Vitellus Donton while in the training yard? Dar-Ma and Nardhil were sweet little girls, and I would miss telling them stories. Even Countess Valga, the most polite and dignified noble I had ever met, was worth mentioning in the list of my friends in Chorrol.

_Pull yourself together and stop crying like some silly s'wit,_ I told myself sternly. _You don't even know if you have to leave, and it's hardly important now. Just get ready to go complete your contract._ I finished packing and set out, waving goodbye to Modryn and Sabine as I passed them.

* * *

**(A/N) I thought Vitellus deserved some attention, since you don't hear much about him in the game. Basically, I made him like an older, warrior version of my brother: cocky, funny, and popular with girls of all ages. Unlike my brother, though, Vitellus doesn't have an amazing older sister, which is entirely his loss.**

**Just to let you all know, Ayleid ruins are the bane of my character's existences. Or rather, mine. I hate undead in all forms, so they just aren't that appealing to me. Even though Varla stones are really awesome.**


	8. Imperial City

_Chapter 7- Imperial City_

I had to bite my lip to keep my jaw from dropping as I walked into the Talos Plaza of the Imperial City. It was as beautiful as I had always imagined, with shining white buildings and plenty of people out walking along the clean streets. I walked quietly along the edge of the street, trying not to gawk too conspicuously. It was obviously a nice neighborhood; the people wore fine clothing, and the entire place had an air of richness that only thieves and those affiliated with House Hlaalu could truly understand.

A quiet inquiry to a polite-looking guard earned me directions to the Elven Gardens district. I made my way to a large gate in the north-eastern end of the district, and the guard there opened it for me with a warning to stay out of trouble.

Herminia Cinna was a very serious woman who wasted no time with pleasantries, something I respected. "I need you to get me the Crown of Nenalata," she explained as soon as I explained who I was. "It is crucial to my research on the last Ayleid king. Once I can study the Crown, I will have the information I need to present a request of scientific excavation to the Elder Council."

"Do you know where this Crown is?" I asked.

"My research suggests that it was removed from the ruins of Nenalata sometime during the Second Era, and has found its way into numerous collections around Tamriel," she replied. "I believe that it has recently been brought back to Cyrodiil, and is currently in the hands of a band of conjurers recently expelled from the Mages Guild. My sources point to the ruins of Belda, between the Imperial City and Cheydinhal. Do you have a map?" I handed her my map, and she carefully marked the ruin on it with neat handwriting. "Deal with the rogue mages as you see fit, but please make sure the Crown remains intact. And whatever you do, _don't_ try to wear it. I am unsure of what will happen, but I guarantee that it would not be pleasant. The Ayleids did not take kindly to their artifacts being disturbed."

"I will do everything in my power to ensure its safety, ma'am," I said politely.

* * *

Since the sun was beginning to set as I left Herminia's house, I decided to set out for the ruin in the morning. I needed to find a place to stay for the night. Remembering that I had passed an inn on the way to meet Herminia, I retraced my steps.

Luther Broad's Boarding House wasn't the best inn in the Imperial City, I was sure, but it seemed likable enough. The only person in the common room was the publican, an Imperial man who welcomed me graciously. "Luther Broad's Boarding House. I'm Luther. What can I do for you this evening?"

I sat down at one of the barstools with a smile. "I need a room for the night, and something to eat would be lovely."

"If you've got 10 gold, I've got a room for the night. Deal?"

"Sounds fair to me." I handed him ten septims, and he handed me the key to the room. "What's on the menu for tonight?"

"Well, we've got this lovely mutton roast that's been cooking all day," he said, leaning on the bar, "and some tomato soup, plus this apple pie that's my assistant's specialty; it's the best you'll ever have, I swear."

"Well, I can't possibly turn that down. Add a bottle of mead to that, and I don't think I've ever heard of a better supper."

Luther smiled and went to dish up my dinner. I sat at the bar, wondering how many customers this place usually got. It was early evening yet, but the place was still strangely empty.

"My assistant won't be in 'till around nine-thirty," Luther said as if in answer to my thoughts. "He's still at the Arena now, betting away all his savings. My most regular customers usually don't come in 'till late, though Alison likes to surprise me from time to time."

I was about halfway through my meal when the door opened and a Redguard man walked in, glancing at me suspiciously before sitting down next to me. "What do you have today, Luther?" he asked.

"Mutton roast, tomato soup, and Winson's apple pie," Luther replied, moving to fill some more dishes. "Just got a crate of that comberry wine you like so much, too. The good stuff."

"You have shein?" I asked incredulously. Of all the bars I had been in, Dervera's was the only one that supplied any kind of liquor from Morrowind. I had always liked shein, the bitter wine made from comberries that only grew in my homeland.

"Yes, I import it from Pelagiad. I don't carry much of it; it isn't too popular with anyone except Dunmer and crazy Baurus here. Would you like some?"

"Of course," I said, smiling at him. I looked at the customer beside me, Baurus. "How does a Redguard come to appreciate shein?" I asked. It was rare for anyone other than a Morrowind-born Dunmer to enjoy the local liquors, which were notorious for bitter taste and the ability to knock even Nords to the ground.

"I have some strange friends," he replied with a chuckle. "Once, when I was growing up, I got dared to drink it, since my friends didn't think it was really liquor. After I woke up with a hangover straight from Oblivion, one of the local Dunmer gave me an impressive lecture on not chugging Morrowind liquor. But I liked it all the same." Luther handed him a glass of the dark purple liquid, and he raised it to me. "For the appreciation of good liquor."

I raised that glass Luther handed me, smiling. "And how it makes friends out of strangers."

We drank our shein in comfortable silence, but then the door opened again to reveal a familiar figure. Alison Jerick walked in, looking much more sober than she had been the last time I had seen her. She wore a dark robe over leather armor, and she was wet from what seemed to be rain. "Hey Luther, Baurus," she said, pulling off her gloves and sitting on Baurus' other side. "I'm just in for a drink, Luther. Get me some good ale."

"Sure thing, Alison," he replied, placing an open bottle in front of her. She slapped some coins on the table and took a deep swig of it, sighing.

"What are you looking at, ashborn?" she asked me, raising an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you be in Chorrol, licking Oreyn's boots?"

"I'm here on contract, Alison, which is something you would understand if you hadn't gotten yourself kicked out of the Guild before your training was over," I replied levelly, ignoring the fury that threatened to boil up at her words. I really hated being called an ashborn.

"Now, ladies, there's no need for harsh words," Luther said, looking between Alison and me. "We're all just trying to have a nice evening here."

I turned aside, hiding my frown. I never had liked Alison; besides being a drunk and a racist, she had a shifty manner that made me suspect she made her living from less-than-lawful pursuits. House Hlaalu employed people like her as thugs to make their rivals' lives difficult.

"Thanks for dinner, Luther," I said, standing and putting a few coins on the bar as payment for my meal. "And it was a pleasure to meet you, Baurus." I picked up the key to my room, going upstairs.

I sat on my bed for my meditations, clearing my mind of all thought before I went to bed. It was difficult tonight; my fear of being moved from Chorrol was still on my mind, as well as my reluctance to enter an Ayleid ruin in the morning. Adding to that my anger at Alison, and it was a wonder that I managed to clear anything. I knew one thing; I was not looking forward to tomorrow.

* * *

**(A/N) I might as well warn you now that I have strange taste in NPC friends. Herminia Cinna is one of my favorites.**

**So, who doesn't love Baurus? And Morrowind liquor? And Baurus with Morrowind liquor? Anyway, Luther Broad's Boarding House is my second favorite place in the Imperial City, next to Slash and Smash. Alanna finds herself there quite often, and will usually find my favorite Redguard Blade and my favorite drunken Breton there, as well.**


	9. Reassignment

**(A/N) Sorry to anyone who had gotten excited over the prospect of reading about Alanna going through an Ayleid ruin. As well as hating Ayleid ruins, I suffer from a terminal case of laziness.**

* * *

_Chapter 8- Reassignment_

I trudged through the Imperial City in the late evening, tugging my cloak more tightly around me to keep out the rain that was determined to soak me and the crown I carried. I wasn't impressed by the Crown of Nenalata, nor by the conjurers that had been guarding it. I just wanted to give the thrice-damned thing to the client and go home.

Herminia opened the door almost immediately. "Come in, please," she said, letting me inside. "Did you find the Crown?"

In response, I brought the Crown out from under my cloak, making her gasp in delight. "It is as beautiful as the tales tell," she murmured, taking it reverently. "I cannot thank you enough for bringing this to me."

"It was nothing, Miss Cinna," I assured her. "This is what the Fighters Guild does."

"Of course. Your Guild has my thanks, and I shall be sure to keep you in mind in case I need any more… assistance with research." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a strange-looking enchanted amulet. "I received this a few years ago as part of a collection of Ayleid artifacts," she said, handing it to me. "It is not of Ayleid origin, which makes it useless to my research, but it might be useful to you."

"Thank you." I put the amulet in my pocket, resolving to go to Teekeeus at the Mages Guild to see what it was. Clients had a strange habit of giving me enchanted jewelry, but I could never tell what the things were supposed to do.

I stayed at Luther Broad's again that night, chatting with Luther and his gambling addict of an assistant, Winson. Despite the rain, we were cheerful, and I went up to bed that night smiling.

* * *

"Welcome back, Panther," Modryn said as I walked into the Guild hall. "How'd the contract go?"

"Well enough, I suppose," I replied, dropping my bag next to me as I sat down at the dining table. There were some leftovers from the others' lunch, and I hadn't eaten on the road. "Ayleid ruins are not a Dunmer's best friend. And I never want to get on a conjurer's bad side again. But I completed the contract, and made a scholar happy."

"Well done." Modryn set a small bag of gold onto the table beside me. "There's your payment. And Vilena wants to see you as soon as you're settled."

I looked up at Modryn for any hint of whether I'd be moved or not, but all he did was nod and walk away. The piece of cheese I was eating seemed stuck in my throat. My appetite dissipated, and I shoved myself away from the table vehemently.

I didn't put my things in my chest, instead dropping my bag on my bed. If I was being reassigned, I would just have to pack my things again anyway. My movements slow with apprehension, I ascended the steps to the Guildmaster's office.

Vilena Donton was a stern Imperial who commanded respect with a single glance. She looked up from her paperwork as I entered the loft office, and I immediately stood at attention and saluted. "I was told to see you, Guildmaster," I said.

"You were. Come here." Vilena's strict brown eyes watched my every movement as I approached her desk. "You have become quite the asset to the Guild recently, young Panther. I must congratulate Burz for having the sight to recruit you. As for you, you are more than deserving of a promotion." She held her hand out for my Guild patch, waiting expectantly.

I carefully untied the leather strap from around my arm and handed it to her, watching as she removed the patch that symbolized my Apprentice rank from it and affixed a Journeyman patch to it. "It is my pleasure to promote you to Journeyman rank, Alanna," she said, handing the strap back to me. "I hope you continue to do well in the Guild." She smiled slightly, but then returned to her usual solemnity. "Now, as you probably know, once the newer members complete their training, they are usually moved to another Guild hall."

This was it. I was being moved somewhere else. Where would it be?

"Judging by your excellent work on the Derelict Mine contract, I have decided that you will do well in Skingrad. You worked well with the members there, and Ah-Malz has requested that I send someone down there to help deal with the Kvatch and Imperial City contracts. You think you're up to it?"

"If you think I am ready to be reassigned, ma'am, then I trust your judgment." Skingrad wasn't a bad place. A beautiful city, and the Guild members there were polite and easy to work with. Added to that was the promise of more Imperial City contracts. That would be nice.

"I think you'll do very well in Skingrad," Vilena said. "It's settled, then. You will remain in Chorrol for two more weeks to complete your training, then you will be reassigned to Skingrad. Good luck, Panther."

* * *

Two weeks later found me saying goodbye to the Guild members who had become my family in the months since my arrival in Cyrodiil. "Don't have too much fun, Panther," Sabine said, giving me a tight hug.

"Alanna, how will my heart ever recover from this separation?" Vitellus asked, pretending to swoon from grief. I rolled my eyes and shoved him, making Viranus laugh.

"You be careful out there, Panther." Modryn put a hand on my shoulder, his ruby eyes staring into mine. "I'll be keeping an eye on you. You've got potential that I haven't seen in years."

"Thank you, muthsera," I said, smiling. "It was an honor training with you. May Azura watch your steps."

"Walk with virtue, Alanna."

* * *

**(A/N) I really love Modryn. He's always seemed like a sort of grumpy, really awesome uncle to me, which I guess is why I made him my character's uncle. I'm unoriginal as well as lazy.**


	10. Skingrad

_Chapter 9- Skingrad_

It was the fourteenth of Sun's Dusk when I arrived in Skingrad for my reassignment. Ah-Malz, the head of the Skingrad guildhall, greeted me at the door. "Welcome to Skingrad, Panther," he said, smiling at me. "I hope you make yourself at home here."

Ah-Malz gave me a quick tour of the hall, assigned me a bed, and left me to put my things away. As I was folding my civilian clothes to put in my chest, Penald, the Redguard porter of the hall, came up to chat with me.

"You missing Chorrol yet?" he asked, leaning against the wall. "I know I did, when I first got here. Things are set up different—Ah-Malz isn't near as strict as Oreyn—but you'll get used to it eventually. Since we're between Kvatch and the Imperial City, we get a lot of contracts. That, and goblin hunting. You'll see plenty of action in that department, trust me."

When I had been in Skingrad for the Derelict Mine contract, I had discovered how crazy the Skingrad Guild was about goblin hunting. Ah-Malz and Parwen had a running tally of how many they had killed, and there seemed to be a contest between the two of them. Fadus Calidius, the hall's main trainer, didn't seem to care for it quite as much, but he still had a lot to say on the subject.

"Yeah, we're going out for a goblin hunt on Loredas, Panther." Parwen had walked into the room while Penald was talking, and now she smiled at me. "We're heading up to Goblin Jim's, up north in the Imperial Reserve. Care to join us?"

"If you don't, that's fine," Penald said. "I usually stick around here to keep an eye on the hall. You're welcome to stay with me."

"I think I'll pass this time, Parwen. I'll come next time, promise."

"All right. More goblins for me," she replied, grinning. "That's a lovely necklace. Where'd you get that?"

My black rose necklace had slipped out from under my cuirass. "Oh, this. It was a gift from my mother, before I left home," I said, holding it. "I don't know exactly where she got it, but I think my uncle made it for her."

"It's quite pretty," she remarked. "What is it they say about Azura…? Mother of the Rose. I had a pal, years ago, who worshipped Azura. Said she was the mother of the Dunmer, and they were the black roses of her garden in Moonshadow." She looked at me. "Do you worship Azura?" she asked.

"I do," I replied carefully. She looked to be an open-minded sort, but I knew that many people found worship of the Daedric Princes to be disturbing.

"Doesn't surprise me much. Let me see that map of yours. I'll mark down the Shrine to Azura for you."

I handed her my map, and she scribbled something on it. When she gave it back, I saw that she had marked a spot in the Jerall Mountains. "Thank you," I said, smiling at her.

"No problem," she replied with a smile. "That's what pals are for, right? Covering each other in goblin raids and sharing locations of Daedric shrines. It works for me." She wandered off, leaving me to laugh at her words.

That evening, I sat down to dinner with my new family members. The topic of discussion was goblin hunting, as usual. I wondered how they didn't get tired of the subject. Parwen and Fadus were discussing what they would need to take with them for the hunt on Loredas, with Ah-Malz pitching in from time to time. Penald and I carried on our own discussion about contracts we had done. He seemed rather impressed by my handling of the conjurers in Belda.

"Conjurers are nasty pieces of work," he said, shaking his head. "Only thing worse is necromancers. I don't like doing much with magic, myself; old Redguard superstitions die hard. Are you a mage?"

I laughed. "I can't even create a ball of light," I replied. "I think I've got the potential, but I never had the chance to learn. Maybe someday I'll head over to the Mages Guild and see what they can teach me, but for now, the only thing close to magic I do is alchemy."

"You should stop by All Things Alchemical, then," he suggested. "Falanu Hlaalu, the mer who runs the place, is a strange one, but she'll be able to supply you with anything you need for potions and the like."

I stiffened a bit, biting my lip. There was a House Hlaalu member in the city? That could be a problem. If this Falanu character was in contact with the House, I could be in serious trouble. I would have to tread carefully until I had more information.

After dinner, I decided to train for a while with my sword on the dummy in the basement. This one didn't have a name, nor did it have a face painted on it. Apparently things just weren't that light-hearted in Skingrad, with them constantly training for goblin raids and the like. I guess that's why I was needed to help with the Kvatch and Imperial City contracts.

After beating on the dummy for a while, I went to wash away the sweat that I had accumulated on the way down to Skingrad and from my practice. Locking the door to the bathing room firmly behind me, I washed myself quickly, marveling once more at the ingenious system Cyrodiilic cities had for transporting water. Pumps and pipes and sewers… I had lived in an older section of Narsis, built before such ideas had been implemented. This system never ceased to amaze me.

As I climbed out of the tub and began to dry myself off, I caught a glance of my reflection in the mirror. I stopped, staring at my body in fascination.

I had changed greatly in appearance over the past few months. Before I had left home, I had been soft, the muscles I had not clearly defined. Months of vigorous training had changed that. Though still slender, I had become more defined, my soft curves giving way to lean muscle. I had cut my hair not long after my first contract, my once waist-length tresses shortened to just below my shoulders. Even the way I carried myself was different. Once, I had been the pinnacle of good posture, standing and sitting as if there was a rod up my spine. Now, though, I stood and moved with the easy, predatory slouch of a light warrior. Were it not for my eyes, I didn't think my own parents would recognize me if they saw me.

That thought stayed with me as I dressed and went up to meditate. It had been four months since I left Narsis, and I had found no sign of pursuit since then. It seemed that my parents weren't too concerned with my departure. Or rather, my father wasn't too concerned. I was thankful for that, since I had no wish to be dragged back to Morrowind.

Apparently having heard about what happened to Darius, the other residents of the Guildhall didn't try to interrupt my meditations as they got ready for bed. I heard their murmured goodnights to each other as I slowly brought myself out of the clarity of meditation. As I uncrossed my legs and opened my eyes, Parwen said, "Night, Panther."

I smiled. "Night, Parwen," I replied.

* * *

**(A/N) She's in Skingrad to help with the Imperial City and Kvatch contracts, and everyone knows what that means...**


	11. Back to Kvatch

**(A/N) ... more Martin! We return to Kvatch today, and to a certain curious priest who brings out our lovely heroine's snippy side. It should be fun, right?**

* * *

_Chapter 10- Back to Kvatch_

"Hey Panther, you up for a short jaunt to Kvatch?"

I looked up from the dice game I was playing with Fadus, grinning at Ah-Malz. "Can it wait until I win the last of Fadus's savings?" I asked.

"Only if you win it in the next ten minutes," he replied. He handed me a slip of paper—the contract report. "Once you're done here, head on over to Kvatch and find Sigrid in the Mages Guild. She's the local alchemist over there, so it's probably ingredient collection. You know how to handle that kind of thing, right?"

"Yes sir." My curiosity had been piqued once he mentioned the Mages Guild. "You ready to give up yet, Fadus? You're already fifty septims behind."

"Might as well," he said, shaking his head with a smile. "And I thought I was a decent gambler." He pulled fifty septims from his purse and handed them to me, grinning. "You earned it, Panther."

* * *

Twenty minutes later saw me on the Gold Road heading towards Kvatch, keeping an eye around me for any dangers. The West Weald was beautiful country, but it was a popular place for bandits preying upon merchants travelling between the Imperial City and the Gold Coast cities. A lone woman, even a lone woman with a sword, would be considered easy prey to them.

It was a cloudy day on the sixth of Evening Star, with only a slightly chilly nip in the air giving any indication of the winter that was raging everywhere north of the Imperial City. In the West Weald, winter was the time of vicious thunderstorms and slightly colder temperatures. It reminded me a little of the countryside around Narsis.

I was thoroughly worn out by the time I had gotten to the top of the Kvatch plateau around noon. The guard at the city gate smiled to me in understanding. "The climb takes its toll, don't it?" he asked. "That's what protected it back in the days of the Colovian kings."

"I feel bad for anyone who tried to siege the city," I said, shaking my head. The guard laughed as he opened the gate for me.

Once more, I stopped just inside the gate, taking in the scenery. Kvatch was just as exciting as it had been the last time I was in here. I realized that I didn't know where the Mages Guildhall was, and was about to go ask for directions when a familiar and unwelcome voice sounded from beside me.

"So, the Fighters Guild hero returns." I turned to see the priest from before leaning by the wall, gazing at me with an unreadable expression in his icy-blue eyes. "What brings you to Kvatch today, oh nameless hero?"

"Are you the city's welcoming committee or something?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Only for you," he said, shrugging nonchalantly. His eyes, though, held a piercing curiosity. "Who are you looking for today?"

"Mages Guild," I replied after a reluctant pause. As much as I didn't really like this man, I wasn't really in a position to turn down help.

"Looking to join, or is it Fighters Guild business?" he asked, pushing away from the wall and walking towards me.

"That is none of your concern," I replied sharply. "If I am going to be interrogated, perhaps I should ask someone else for directions and leave you to your work as the welcoming committee."

"Now, there's no need to be rude," he scolded. "I was just curious."

"Curiosity is a virtue most unbecoming of a priest," I muttered, turning away. I heard him laugh, and scowled.

"I believe I told you that I make a terrible priest," he said. "Either way, the Mages Guildhall is this way." He led me past the chapel and down the street to a building with the Mages Guild symbol on a sign out front. "Will you be staying in Kvatch long?"

"I am hoping for as short a stay as possible," I replied simply. "Thank you for directing me." I turned and walked into the building before he could reply.

I was greeted by a well-dressed Nord woman. "Welcome to the Kvatch Mages Guild hall, friend," she said. "I'm Sigrid, the local alchemist. Can I help you?"

"Actually, I came here to help you," I replied, turning to show her my guild armband. "I'm here about the contract."

"Oh, good," She smiled in relief. "Now, are you familiar with the nightshade plant? It grows quite profusely in the West Weald."

"Yes, ma'am," The plants could be found everywhere in the area surrounding Skingrad. Parwen had warned me about their notorious poison, but I was drawn to them, perhaps by their similarity to the black anther flowers that I had loved growing up.

"Good. My stock of them is running low, and my usual supplier seems to have disappeared. I need a lot of flowers; in fact, if you could possibly dig up a few plants for me, I'd be much obliged."

I raised an eyebrow, considering it. This was not in the range of typical Fighters Guild ingredient-collection contracts. But it would be fun to go out digging up plants. My mother had kept a flower garden when I was a child, and I had loved helping her dig things up and planting.

"How many plants do you think you'd need?" I asked.

"Oh, maybe two or three," she replied. "I'll need a lot of flowers, but I don't want to burden you. Wait here for a moment." She walked into another room, returning a minute later with two flowerpots and a small hand shovel. "You can put them in these," she said, handing them to me.

"I'll have them to you by this evening," I promised.

I didn't see the priest again as I left the city, but it started to rain just after the gate closed behind me. I cursed as I dug my traveling robe out of my bag and shrugged it on, pulling the hood up to shield my face. Of all the times it had to rain, it had to be when I had to dig up plants. At least it would loosen the soil.

Fortunately, I didn't have to travel far to find nightshade plants. Not long after I had gotten off the plateau and started walking the Gold Road, I saw a cluster of the familiar purple blossoms not too far off the road. Walking over to them, I found three plants in excellent condition; their leaves were whole and a healthy green color, their stems were strong, and each plant boasted a multitude of lovely purple flowers. I silently thanked Nocturnal for my luck as I knelt to start digging.

I had just finished filling the second flowerpot with soil when I heard the giggling. Looking up, I blanched as I saw a spriggan walking not too far from where I was kneeling. I froze, praying to any deity that happened to be paying attention at the moment to not let her see me. Spriggans were lovely creatures, but they took the protection of the places they guarded very seriously. My digging of the nightshade plants would not go over well with this one.

My eyes followed the creature as she slowly walked up a nearby hill. As soon as she was over the other side, I released a breath that I hadn't realized I was holding. It was time to get these plants back to Sigrid.

* * *

"Oh, these are lovely!" Sigrid exclaimed when I handed her the flowerpots. "I cannot thank you enough. I apologize for the rain, though; it was supposed to be a nice day."

"That's perfectly all right, ma'am," I replied, smiling. "Could you please direct me to the nearest inn, though? It's getting late, and even I don't dare travel the Gold Road on a stormy night."

Sigrid gave me directions to the local inn, and thanked me again as I left the Mages Guild hall. I walked down the street, trying to locate the sign for The Fox's Banter in the pouring rain.

"Looking for the inn?" I jumped and had my sword half out of its sheath before I recognized the voice of the priest. He was standing beside me, ignoring the rain that soaked his chestnut-colored hair.

"Don't you have anything better to do?" I snapped, shoving my sword back into its sheath. "I feel like a priest should have duties other than harassing strangers. You're going to catch your death of cold out here."

"You're a sassy one, aren't you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "There's no need to be so hostile. Besides, a stranger is just a friend you haven't met yet."

I stared at him in shock, barely noticing when a strong gust of wind blew my hood back. "You have obviously not met many Dunmer," I said finally, shaking my head. "I have no intention of becoming friends with an Imperial priest. Go back to your Chapel and pray, or something." I stormed away, resuming my search for the inn.

Once I had paid for my room and changed into dry clothes, I sat on my bed for my meditation. Instead of my mind clearing, though, it focused on my ire at the priest. Martin. I didn't know what he wanted with me, but I had a feeling that I wouldn't like it. Those piercing eyes, seemingly staring into the depths of my soul, picking out every secret I had. I barely knew the man, and I couldn't stand him. When I finally gave up on my meditation and went to bed, I knew that my dreams would likely once more be haunted by a certain blue-eyed priest.

* * *

**(A/N) I realize Martin isn't really acting like he does in the game. My excuse is that he's still pretty new to the priesthood. He still has about six years to become the serious scholar that we know and love. So don't throw things at me!**


	12. A Signature Poison

_Chapter 11- A Signature Poison_

I returned to Skingrad tired and irritable. I hadn't gotten much sleep in Kvatch, dreams of fire and screaming waking me up throughout the night. Finally giving up about an hour before dawn, I readied myself and started the journey home.

Walking along the deserted Gold Road in the pre-dawn light, I tried to figure out what my dream meant. My mother had taught me that all dreams had meaning, but mortals were usually too blind to see the signs Vaermina gave us. After much consideration, I finally gave up and attributed the dream to my worry for my suffering homeland.

Morrowind's large island, Vvardenfell, was in turmoil. According to the rumors I had overheard, the Tribunal was losing strength, and the reincarnation of Indoril Nerevar had returned to combat the Blight spreading from Red Mountain. Although I didn't put much stock in the rumors—there have always been rumors about some self-proclaimed Nerevarine, even in Narsis—there was no denying that my homeland was facing troubling times.

I wasn't so sure that my worry for Morrowind was the reason for my dark dreams, though. The nightmare I had experienced last night was familiar to me; I had suffered it periodically throughout my childhood. It was always the same: a barren landscape, a blood-red sky that boiled with thunder and pitch-black clouds, a tall tower, a maniacal cackle that I instinctually knew was not meant for mortal ears. Then it would change: a burning city, people screaming, streets red with blood, an ear-splitting roar that was also beyond mortal comprehension. I would wake up soaked in sweat, my heart racing, my throat sore as if I had screamed all night.

When I finally got back to Skingrad, I proceeded directly to the Guild hall. Only Penald was awake, sitting on a bench and reading quietly. "Morning, Panther," he said, looking up from his book with a smile. "I told Ah-Malz that you were sensible enough to stay the night in Kvatch. No person with a brain would be out alone in that storm."

I grunted noncommittally and went to go upstairs. My fatigue, ignored while on the road, was suddenly overbearing. I could barely hold my eyes open, let alone undo all the buckles on my armor. I dropped my bag at the end of my bed and fell onto it, asleep before my head hit the pillow.

* * *

I woke up a few hours later with a pounding headache, as if I had drunk a bottle of matze too fast. Sitting up, I winced as a stray buckle on my armor pinched me. I made a mental note to never sleep in armor again and quickly changed into clean clothes.

Stumbling down to the first floor, I found Parwen and Ah-Malz in the middle of a heated debate over the best method to kill goblins. Ignoring them, I went to the table and collapsed into a seat beside Fadus.

"Bad night?" he asked, looking me over. "You look like death."

"I don't want to talk about it," I muttered, grabbing a bowl of blackberries off the table. I began to eat them mechanically, not really paying attention to my surroundings.

"Hey, Panther, you okay?" Parwen asked. She and Ah-Malz had joined us at the table, and she was looking at me with concern. "You don't look well. Perhaps you should go to the Chapel and have Marie take a look at you."

"I'm fine," I said, shaking my head vehemently, then wincing as the movement set it pounding again. No matter how terrible I felt, there was no way I was going into another damn Chapel. "I was out in the storm last night, and didn't sleep well. I'll be better tomorrow."

Ah-Malz handed me a small bag of coins. "That's the payment for the contract. You take it easy today, Panther. Take a break from training. I don't want you overexerting yourself. Why don't you go look at the alchemist's shop like you've been meaning to do for weeks?"

After a bit of digging and careful research, I had learned that the local alchemist wasn't in contact with House Hlaalu. According to the rumors, she had fled Morrowind for some reason, probably linked to her constantly hanging around the graveyard. Although the rumors did worry me a little, I was pleased that she wouldn't be able to contact the House about my appearance in Skingrad.

"I think I will do just that," I replied, mostly to myself.

* * *

All Things Alchemical was a very nice-looking store, with neat displays of potions and preserved ingredients. No one was behind the counter when I walked in not long after noon, so I began to inspect a shelf of various potions.

"Oh, greetings, sera," a feminine Dunmer voice said. I looked up to see that a woman had appeared behind the counter, eyeing me curiously. "Welcome to All Things Alchemical."

I approached the counter. "Are you the owner of the store?"

"Yes. I'm Falanu. House Hlaalu. As if that matters here." The last remark was muttered quietly, and I wasn't sure if I was really supposed to hear it. "I'm the only alchemist in Skingrad, unless you want to count that crazy old coot who lives in the basement of the West Weald Inn. Not much business here, but I can't go back to Morrowind. Now, can I help you?"

"Um, yes," I replied. I pulled a piece of paper out of my pocket—the recipe for my signature poison. "I need dragon's tongue flowers, sacred lotus seeds, and wisp stalk caps. Five portions of each."

"Right on it," Falanu turned and disappeared through a trapdoor—probably where she preserved the ingredients. She came up with an armful of small bags: the ingredients I had asked for, already carefully measured into alchemist's portions. She set them on the counter, looking at me expectantly. "Anything else?"

I thought about it for a moment, then nodded. "I need some poison packets, the kind you use to coat a weapon," I said. "I think thirty will do."

She nodded and pulled a bag from under the counter, counting six packages of five poison packets. "Gives you a good edge in a fight," she commented, setting the poison packets with my ingredients. "Is that it?"

"Yes, sera," I replied.

"All right." She quickly went over my purchase, adding the total in her head. "That'll be forty septims."

I counted out the coins, depositing them into her waiting hand. I placed my purchases in the bag I had brought with me, and with a nod of farewell left the store.

Back at the Guild hall, I went down to the basement and set my bag down at the small table that I had commandeered for my alchemy experiments. Parwen and Ah-Malz were in the middle of a spar, so they ignored me.

I spent the rest of the afternoon working on making my signature poison. It wasn't deadly, but it moved through the bloodstream fast, slowing down even the most furious of berserkers with just a single nick from my blade. Because of my small size compared to the bandits I usually ended up fighting, every advantage was required.

Penald came down while I was filling my poison packets, looking over my little operation with approval. "I heard that you craft a terrifying little poison," he said, watching me carefully fill the packet. "Fadus said you were able to slow down a blood-crazed Orc bandit with just a small cut to the face. I'd hate to see what it would do to me."

"It doesn't work as well on Redguards," I remarked, sealing a packet and putting it aside to set. "Your race has a good tolerance for poisons, even my dangerous little concoction here."

"Interesting," he replied. "I don't normally use poisons. How do you get this stuff onto your blade?"

"Oh, that's the fascinating thing. Grab me one of the spare daggers from by the forge." He fetched one and handed it to me, and I picked up one of the packets from my last batch of poisons. "As you can see, the poison has settled into a mostly-solid block," I explained, showing him. "When I work at it with my hand, the warmth and friction turns it back into a jelly-like substance. Now, you slice the packet open," I demonstrated with the dagger, "and you coat the edges of the blade with the poison. It's better if you leave it to dry before attacking someone, but it's all right to use it like this, too. Just be careful when sheathing your sword; the jelly can do bad things to the inside of your scabbard." I looked at the jelly-coated blade, examining the thickness of the poison coat. "I tested this recipe on myself—it won't kill, but it will slow a person down for a few hours and give them some pretty bad headaches."

"That's quite ingenious," Penald said, nodding in approval. "Redguard or not, remind me not to get on the wrong side of your blade, Panther."

* * *

**(A/N) **_**Oblivion**_** doesn't have much detail when it comes to poisoning blades, so I made that little procedure up myself. It works for me, anyway.**

**As for those dreams... Sound familiar, anyone? I have a serious weakness for prophetic dreams; they show up in my writing a lot. Sorry if you're not into that kind of thing.**


	13. Not a Fan of Parties

**(A/N) Bonjour, toute le monde! That's just about the only complete phrase I can remember after about a year of French classes. Isn't summer vacation great?**

* * *

_Chapter 12- Not a Fan of Parties_

I was taking a walk in the brisk winter air on the fourteenth of Sun's Dawn. Everywhere I looked, people were in good spirits; putting up decorations and chatting to one another about the Heart's Day festival that was to occur in two days. Apparently the Two Sisters Lodge threw a huge party every year, and it would be the talk of the town for months afterward.

I wasn't sure if I would be attending the party or not. I had always been uneasy in large gatherings, mostly because I had spent most of them trying to figure out who my father was trying to marry me off to at that particular party. I didn't have to worry about that here, but old habits were hard to break. I was considering just spending the night in quiet meditation and training.

As I was passing Salmo's house, Undena Orethi came out with a basket of bread. "Good day, Alanna!" she called cheerfully. "Come on over to my house, dear. This is not weather for someone as delicate as you to be out in."

Undena was a sweet woman in her late sixties; middle-aged for a Dunmer. Her husband had died several years ago of some terrible sickness, and she had lost two children in their infancy. She had 'adopted' me a few weeks after my arrival in Skingrad, and she often invited me to her house to drink tea and chat. She was under the impression that I was as fragile as a flower petal, despite knowing that I was in the Fighters Guild.

I obediently fell into step beside her as she crossed the street to her house, opening the door for her so she didn't drop her basket. "You are a dear," she said with a smile. "Now, come in and sit by the fire. I'll make some tea."

I sat down in one of the two chairs by the fire, watching Undena as she bustled about in her small kitchen. There were tomatoes everywhere; after her husband died, Undena decided to go on a search for the perfect tomato. I figured that grief had driven her a little over the edge, but she was a very sweet, harmless lady.

"It's been a while since you came over," Undena remarked as she got out her set of yellow glassware that she used when she had visitors. She had told me that the set had been her wedding present from her uncle, who worked with glass for a living in Balmora. "What trouble have you been cooking up lately?"

"The usual," I replied, standing to help her with the glasses. "Hunting goblins, fighting bandits, protecting the weak and all of that. I've been given a lot of contracts in the Imperial City lately; I've only been back in Skingrad for two days."

"It's good that you've been keeping yourself busy," Undena said, nodding in approval. "You are not a person meant for a dull life. You are a wanderer, an adventurer. Panther is a fitting name for you." She put the tea kettle on the fire and went to the cupboard. "Are you going to be attending the Heart's Day festival?" she asked me as she took out a plate of sweetrolls and set them on the table. "The Mogakh sisters always throw a fine party at their inn."

"I don't think so," I replied, shaking my head and taking a sweetroll. "I've never been a fan of parties. I'm probably going to spend the night training, or completing a contract if one comes up at the Guild."

"A girl your age, not fond of parties?" Undena placed a hand on her heart. "Well, now I can truly say I've seen it all. Why don't you like parties?"

"I don't really like being in large groups," I said after a short pause. That was true enough. "Especially large groups of drunken people. There will undoubtedly be a lot of drinking at the Heart's Day festival, and I'd really prefer to stay out of it."

Undena nodded. "That is probably one of the wisest things I've ever heard. You may be young, Alanna, but you are far more intelligent than other girls your age."

"Thank you, sera," I said with a smile.

I stayed at Undena's house for a few hours, drinking tea and telling her about the contracts I had recently completed. She was an attentive listener, smiling like a mother indulging her child. She seemed to know that I looked to her a little bit like a mother, since my birth mother was so far away. And she was kind enough to let me look up to her like that.

When I stood and told her that I needed to get back to the Guild hall, Undena walked me to the door. "You be careful, Alanna," she said, putting a hand on my shoulder. "I'd hate to hear of you getting hurt on one of these contracts of yours."

"I'm always careful, sera," I replied, smiling.

* * *

Two days later found me clearing out a cave just off the Gold Road, not far from Kvatch. The cave was full of bandits preying on the merchants going to and from the city, and I offered to clear it out so the rest of the Fighters Guild members could enjoy the Heart's Day celebration. They resisted at first, but I assured them that I could handle it by myself.

The bandits were definitely not expecting a visitor. I picked most of them off with my bow while they walked around, and they all seemed to be separated from each other. The biggest challenge was in the next-to-last chamber, where a group of archers stood on an upper level. I treaded carefully, trying not to be seen as I snuck up behind one of them and swiftly slit his throat with my dagger. Covering his mouth to cut off any screams, I lowered his body to the ground quietly so he didn't alert any of the others. I repeated the process with two others, but as I killed the third one, the last archer caught sight of me.

"Well, what have we got here?" the archer said, pulling his bow from his back. "You're going to regret coming here, friend." He grabbed an arrow and fitted it to his string, firing at my face.

I dodged the arrow and got my own bow, shooting at him while he tried to get another arrow on the string. He cursed as it narrowly missed his head, then shot again, moving to the left. The arrow passed so close to my face that I felt the wind from it brush my face. I ignored it, though the proximity made my heart pound. I shot again, and this time the arrow his wrist. He howled in pain, dropping his bow as he grabbed the arrow protruding from his hand. I took the opportunity to dart forward with my dagger, slitting his throat before he could attack me again.

As he dropped to the ground, silent once more, I heard movement coming from the hallway I had not yet explored. There were still bandits left; probably a ringleader. I cursed and picked my bow up from where I had dropped it, retreating to the shadows as a Redguard in fine chainmail armor came out of the hallway. "What's going on out here?" the man asked, glaring up at where the archers were supposed to be. "Aranor, if you hit Llaren again-"

His words were cut off by my arrow hitting his shoulder. He cried out, instantly spinning towards me. "You ashborn fetcher!" he cried, catching sight of me. "You'll pay dearly for this!"

In response, I loosed another arrow. He turned just in time to avoid it going through his eye, and it clattered uselessly against his helmet. He pulled a mace from his belt and began to run towards the ramp that led to the top level, now intent on my demise. I pulled my sword from its sheath and set it beside me within easy reach, then nocked another arrow.

I hit the ringleader in the knee with my next arrow, and he stumbled, screaming in agony. I never understood why being shot in the knee was so debilitating, but it seemed to be a fact of life. It didn't deter him for long, though, as he staggered towards me with murder in his eyes. I gave up on my bow and set it down, picking up my sword and going to finish him off.

He swung his mace at me dangerously, but I could tell his strength was failing. He fell to his knees, crying out as the shaft of the arrow lodged in his knee snapped. Utilizing his distraction, I swung my sword in a murderous arc towards his neck. The fine chainmail offered little resistance as I nearly sheared his head from his shoulders.

As I began to pull my sword from the gory mess of his neck, an excruciating pain blossomed in my side. The ringleader's mace had begun to swing as I killed him, and its dangerous momentum had carried it beyond its holder's death to hit me. Stars blinked in my vision as I screamed, the wicked spikes of the mace tearing through the leather of my armor and through my skin. It had been poisoned as well, and my vision began to blur as the weapon clattered to the floor, its final task completed.

I had to get out of the cave. That was my only coherent thought as I staggered down the ramp and through the hallway leading to the upper levels. If I died in the cave, it was likely that my body would never be found. I had to get outside so I was easier to find.

My vision kept blurring as I made my way to the entrance of the cave. The door was open, thank Azura; I stumbled through it, falling to the ground just outside. I was out of the cave; somebody would be able to find me.

I was within sight of the road to Kvatch, and it just so happened that an Imperial Legion rider was passing by as I collapsed. He jumped off his horse and rushed to me as my vision began to darken. My last thought before succumbing to unconsciousness was that I had never been so happy to see an Imperial.

* * *

**(A/N) And the ominous music starts to play… What will happen next? We'll find out next week!**

**Undena Orethi is yet another NPC who I think is awesome (I think that a lot of NPCs are awesome). I like her, and I felt that she would be a suitable 'mother' for our young heroine.**

**Just a heads-up: June 22****nd**** (or somewhere around that time) will be my last post for a while. I'm heading to a summer program for a few weeks, and we aren't allowed to bring our laptops. I'll continue writing while I'm there, but I won't be updating again until early August.**


	14. Fever Dreams

_Chapter 13- Fever Dreams_

_"Do you think she'll be all right? That poison seemed rather strong."_

_"I cleared most of the poison from her system. Her body will get rid of the rest. Let her sleep. A wound like that is one not easily recovered from."_

I heard voices while I slept, voices that seemed to come from a great distance. I was in a sea of blackness, struggling to get to shore. It kept retreating from me, no matter how hard I tried to reach it.

_"I think something's wrong, Oleta. Shouldn't she be awake by now?"_

_"She's developed a fever. This is more serious than I thought."_

The nightmare was back: the barren rocks and lava; the lightning flashing in the sky; creatures that no mortal should see chasing after me, roaring in some unintelligible language. I couldn't get away from them; it was like I was running in quicksand. I tripped over a rock, and they were upon me…

_"It's blood rot. I'm sure of it."_

_"Oleta, some people are here from the Skingrad Fighters Guild. They say she's one of them."_

_"I don't have time for them, Ilav. Martin, fetch the potions with the mandrake roots. This is going to take a while."_

It was the Imperial City, the buildings on fire and the streets red with blood. Imperial Legion soldiers were fighting the terrible creatures from the barren land, but they were losing. I was running down the street; towards what, I didn't know. I felt the need to protect something behind me; I turned to see what it was, but there was only more blood and fire.

_"Hold her still, Martin!"_

_"Oleta, she won't stop thrashing. Is this a symptom of blood rot?"_

_"She's dreaming. Blood rot gives people terrible nightmares. Just hold her still!"_

A stone. That was the key. The key to destroying the dead landscape not meant for mortal eyes. I could see the stone, could almost touch it. But something was holding me back. I turned, saw a figure in red robes holding me away from the stone. The figure raised a dagger, lowered it towards my throat…

_"Oleta, isn't there anything else we can do?"_

_"No. Her body must fight the infection on its own. Her fate is in the hands of the Nine now."_

_"I don't think she believes in the Nine."_

_"That is beside the point. Go back to your studies, Martin. She is beyond our help now."_

Screaming filled my ears, the screams of terrified people as they were cut down by the creatures. One of the creatures saw me and held up a decapitated head, grinning. My own screaming added to the din as I recognized the head of my mother.

_"She's dying. I'm sorry, muthsera Oreyn. There's nothing more I can do."_

_"Then what good are you? Alanna, don't you dare die on me. I'll drag you back from Oblivion if I have to."_

There was a light; a blinding light, piercing through the image of the burning city. It enveloped me, comforting me, soothing my terror. I felt safe in the light.

A beautiful woman appeared in the light, walking towards me. "You are not supposed to be here, Alaurne Ginith," she said, gazing down at me with bottomless eyes. Their color flickered from red to gold and back again. "Your Prophecy has not yet been spoken; your Event has not yet come to pass. You are the Hero, and will be needed before the end." She put her hand on my forehead, and a spark of energy washed through me. "I cannot do this often; it is against the laws of mortality. But for the Hero that will be, I must. Go, Alaurne Ginith. Your Prophecy still waits."

* * *

My eyes opened to reveal a stone ceiling. For one terrifying moment, I was back in the cave; then I realized that I was in a building.

A Redguard woman came into my vision—Oleta, the healer from the Chapel in Kvatch. "Welcome back to the world of the living, young one," she said, smiling down at me. "You gave us quite the scare."

I struggled into a sitting position, realizing that my armor had been removed and I had been put in a pale nightgown. "Your armor was in bad shape when you got here," Oleta explained, propping pillows behind me. "I had Brother Martin take it to the local smith to be repaired. It's on that dresser there."

I looked to where she gestured, seeing that my armor, quiver, and sword belt were on the dresser. "You did not have your weapons with you when you got here. I believe your Fighters Guild friends are looking for them right now."

I opened my mouth to speak, but all that came out was a dull croak. Oleta filled a glass from a pitcher of water on the table beside me, handing it to me. I took it carefully, making sure not to spill it as I drained the glass. "What happened to me?" I asked her, handing the glass back.

"I was hoping you could tell me," the healer replied, setting the glass on the side table. "An Imperial Legion rider carried you in, saying you collapsed just outside of Belletor's Folly. You had a wound that looked like it came from a mace on your side, and it was poisoned. I healed that the best I could, but you developed a near-fatal case of blood rot. You are lucky to be alive, young one." She looked at me curiously. "Do you remember anything of your sickness?"

I thought back, searching my memory. "No," I replied, shaking my head. "I remember the cave, being hit, falling outside. There was an Imperial man; he was the last thing I saw. Then I woke up here."

Oleta nodded. "You were very ill. But you will survive, and be the stronger for it. Muthsera Oreyn is waiting outside. Do you want me to bring him in?"

"Please," I replied. She nodded again, standing and going to the door.

Modryn stormed into the room, looking disheveled and furious. "Panther, what in Oblivion possessed you?" he snarled. "What made you think it was a good idea to waltz into a bandit lair without any backup?"

"I thought I could handle it," I replied. "I managed just fine until I fought the ringleader."

Modryn put his head in his hands. "Azura preserve me," he muttered, shaking his head. He looked up at me, and I saw the concern and desperation in his fiery eyes. He had been truly worried about me. "Do me a favor and never pull something like that again. I thought we were going to lose you, Alanna."

"I'm sorry, Uncle Modryn," I said, reaching out to touch his elbow. "I won't do it again, I promise."

"You had better not," he growled. "I'll drag you back to Chorrol and never let you out of my sight again." His face softened. "But you learned from your mistake. That's good enough. Get yourself dressed, and we'll go get something to eat while we wait for Penald and Fadus to show up."

Modryn left the room so I could change, and as I buckled on my armor I realized that I had lost some weight. How long had I been sick? I would have to ask the healer when I went to speak to her.

"It's the twenty-sixth of Sun's Dawn," Oleta replied when I asked her the date. "You came here on the sixteenth, so you've been here ten days. You had the worst case of blood rot I've ever seen."

"I have to thank you for your care," I said, bowing my head. "Although I am not one of your faith, you took me in and healed me to the best of your ability. I do not know of many who would do such a thing. I am in your debt, healer of Akatosh."

"I would never turn down one of the sick, be they of the Divines or Daedra," Oleta replied, taking my hand in hers. "It is against my oath as a healer. You have no debt to me."

I shook my head. "I will repay you somehow," I insisted. "Thank you again." I removed my hand from the healer's and walked to where Modryn was waiting for me by the door. As he opened it, I glanced back and saw the young priest Martin standing by the altar. As I met his perceptive gaze, an understanding passed between us. He had helped to save my life; I was in his debt, too. I nodded gravely to him, then passed through the door and out of the Chapel.

* * *

**(A/N) So, we didn't actually see much of Martin this chapter. Sorry to those who were expecting him; I am a cruel mistress.**

**Does anyone have a guess at who the beautiful woman from Alanna's dream was? Bonus points if you know the quote she was alluding to, as well.**

**Irrelevant question time: Are any of my readers from the Southern Hemisphere? I'm from the U.S., so it's summer and a bajillion degrees out. Do any of you guys have snow? That would be awesome.**


	15. Hogithum

**(A/N) Hey, everyone! I got some great guesses for the answers to the questions I asked last chapter.** **The quote is actually from the **_**Elder Scrolls**_**, specifically **_**Morrowind**_**. It appears when you first start a new game. **_**"Each event is preceded by Prophecy. But without the hero, there is no Event."**_** - **_**Zurin Arctus, the Underking. **_**As for the beautiful woman who alluded to the quote, she'll be returning in this chapter... so go and read it!**

* * *

_Chapter 14- Hogithum_

"Panther, why didn't you tell me that your birthday is next week?"

I looked up to see Parwen scowling at me. I was sitting on my bed sharpening my sword, avoiding Fadus and Penald's argument on the best kind of weapon to kill goblins. "How did you find out my birthday was next week?" I asked, feeling a slight bit of panic. Modryn was supposed to be the only person in Cyrodiil who knew my birthdate, and I had no idea how Parwen might have been able to get ahold of the information.

"Ah-Malz told me," she replied, shrugging. "It's in your membership file. But that's beside the point. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't realize that it was that important," I said to her, frowning. "I'm not going to be here anyway. Ah-Malz gave me leave to go visit the shrine to Azura." It had been hard to convince him to let me leave; he had kept a tight rein on me since the ordeal at Belletor's Folly. He had told me that Modryn would have his hide if he let me get hurt again.

"Oh yeah, next week is Hogithum, isn't it?" she asked. "The twenty-first. That's why you won't be here."

"You know, for someone whose only faith is in her weapons, you know an awful lot about worship of the Mother of the Rose," I remarked.

"I had a friend a while back who worshipped Azura," Parwen replied, shrugging in dismissal. "Nice fellow, but a bit too devoted for my taste. Maybe you'll find him when you go to the shrine." She sat down at the foot of my bed, looking at me with curiosity. "So, how old are you going to be?" she asked. "Ah-Malz didn't tell me. He just told me your birthday was next week."

I sighed. "I will be twenty years old under the dusk of Hogithum," I said, looking back down at my sword.

"Wait, you're only nineteen?" she asked incredulously. "I had you pinned for at least twenty-two. It's hard to tell with Dunmer, though."

I shrugged noncommittally, beginning to run my sharpening stone over the edge of my blade again. I was half-hoping she would find something else to distract her and leave.

No such luck. "So, what do you normally do on your birthday?" she asked.

I sighed internally. "I normally spend the day in quiet meditation, contemplating my life so far, what I still have the potential to do, and my own fate," I replied quietly, not pausing in my work. "The twenty-first of First Seed may be my birthday, but it is Hogithum first and foremost. I have not celebrated my birthday since I was eight years old."

"That's terrible!" Parwen exclaimed. "We're going to celebrate it before you leave. When do you leave?"

"Hogithum is next Fredas, so I was planning to leave on Tirdas," I replied.

"We'll celebrate on Morndas, then," she declared. "I'm going to go tell Ah-Malz." She tromped away, leaving me to sharpen my sword in peace.

* * *

A week later found me in Cheydinhal on Middas, getting supplies before making the trek up the Jeralls. Dervera had been glad to see me, and had approved highly of my intended destination. "If I didn't have the Lodge to run, I'd go with you," she said, handing me the tankard of greef that I had ordered. "I haven't been as devoted as I should be, though I think the Lady understands."

"She is most benevolent to Her black roses, even when they haven't been as devoted as they should," I replied absently, thinking about my father. I could not recall the last time he had sat in meditation with my mother and I, or if he had ever done so. Most years on Hogithum he would be out with non-Dunmer members of the House, leaving my mother and me to worship alone.

Dervera and I talked for a little while, but I soon had to leave if I was to reach the shrine by the dawn of Hogithum. I bid her a fond farewell, promising to stop by on my return from the shrine, and exited Cheydinhal to begin the last leg of my journey.

* * *

The first thing I learned about the area of the Jerall Mountains was that it was cold. I had grown up in southern Morrowind, and had never been farther north than Chorrol. So I was naturally uncomfortable when it started to snow. The second thing I learned was that there were many wolves in the area, and they were less than pleased to see an intruder in their territory. I spent a lot of time running from snapping jaws and eerie howls, occasionally wishing I had a Bosmer's power to calm animals. It was a less than pleasant trip.

I reached the shrine to Azura just as dawn was breaking over the eastern mountains, bathing the glorious statue in light. My first action was to drop to my knees before it, bowing my head and thanking Azura for preserving me through the trip.

"Welcome to the shrine of our Lady Azura, traveler," a voice said before me, and I looked up to see a Dunmeri man about my father's age smiling down at me. "What is your business at this holy place?"

"I am here to pay homage to the Queen of the Dawn and the Dusk, brother Dunmer," I replied, rising to my feet. "On this Her sacred day, I have no other desire than to meditate in Her holy presence."

"You are welcome to join us then, my sister," he said, offering his hand. "I am Mels. My fellow worshippers are Ralsa and Bur-Meema." He gestured to another Dunmer man and an Argonian woman who were looking at me curiously. "What is your name, sister?"

"Alaurne," I replied after a pause. It was the first time I had used my true name since I had arrived in Cyrodiil. I had considered using my other name, but in such a sacred place, it would be blasphemy to do so.

"Welcome, my sister Alaurne," Mels said, leading me to the other two worshippers. "We rarely see other children of the Mother of the Rose anymore."

After a brief flurry of introductions, the four of us seated ourselves in an arc before the statue of Azura, settling into our meditations. I closed my eyes in silent contemplation of my life since I arrived in Cyrodiil. I had earned a place in the esteemed Fighters Guild and had made a bit of a name for myself. I was proud of my accomplishments, but realized that I still had a long life ahead of me. There were many more things I could do in the world.

_"Yes, Alaurne Ginith, there is still a great deal for you to do,"_ a voice whispered in my ear, startling me slightly. I didn't open my eyes, though, realizing that the voice was familiar to me. _"I have heard your name whispered in the twilight, my child. You are in the hands of Fate, and your destiny has yet to pass. You are not the greatest of my champions, but you will be great in your own way."_

I opened my eyes to see that it was dusk, and the other three were slowly coming out of their meditations, as well. Mels nodded to me knowingly. "Our Lady has spoken to you, sister Alaurne. You are blessed."

I spent the night at the shrine, speaking with the worshippers about our patron and the rumors of her great champion, the Nerevarine. "We hear little in our seclusion," Bur-Meema said when I mentioned the subject. "What have you heard about the coming of the Nerevarine?"

"I have heard that he is an Imperial man, which causes great unrest in Vvardenfell," I replied. "The idea of a foreigner being the Nerevarine is preposterous to many. But he wears the Moon-and-Star, and the Ashlander tribes stand united behind him, which brings much credibility to his claim. They say he has been cured of corprus, and has been blessed by our Lady Azura. As far as the rumors go, he really is Incarnate moon and star reborn."

"Amazing," Ralsa whispered in awe, looking up at the statue of Azura. "I would wish to one day meet one so blessed by the Lady."

"As would we all, Ralsa," Mels said.

The next morning, I left the shrine of Azura to head back to Cheydinhal. "Go with our Lady's blessing, Alaurne," Mels said to me as I departed. "May the moon and star forever be your guide."

* * *

"So, how was it?" Dervera asked me when I sat down at the bar in Newlands Lodge. I had arrived in Cheydinhal long after dark, the result of getting hopelessly lost in the never-changing mountain landscape. My normally impeccable sense of direction had failed me, and I had been across the border into Morrowind before I realized that I was going the wrong way.

"It was the most peaceful place, and the people were amazingly welcoming," I replied. "I have never felt so close to Lady Azura."

"Someday, I will have to make a pilgrimage to the shrine," she said, smiling wistfully. "You are fortunate to have been able to go on Hogithum." She sobered quickly, though, taking in my weary appearance. "You look like you've been on the road awhile. You hungry, thirsty, both?"

"Both," I replied. "I'll take whatever you've got on the menu, and plenty of greef to wash it down."

"You've got it," she said with a smile, turning to get my order.

I ate my late dinner quickly, then threw my bag over my shoulder. "It was nice to chat with you, Dervera," I said, placing some coins on the bar to pay for my meal.

"Are you leaving already?" she asked.

"Yeah, I'm heading over to the Fighters Guild," I replied.

"All right. Walk with virtue, Alanna."

The Cheydinhal Fighters Guild hall was mostly dark when I slipped inside. The only one still awake at this hour was Solea, the porter. "Hey, Panther," she said quietly, looking up from the book she was reading. "I was wondering when you'd turn up. You get lost in the mountains, too?"

I nodded sheepishly. Solea chuckled softly, standing up. "Trust me, pal, you aren't the only one," she assured me. "Well, now that you're here, I can lock the hall up and go to bed. Go on upstairs, Panther. Those lugs will sleep through an earthquake, so you don't have to worry about making too much noise."

I tread quietly upstairs to where the others were sleeping, stifling a giggle when Burz's snore threatened to shake the walls. I was too tired for meditation, so I simply changed out of my armor and collapsed on the bed. I was asleep before Solea came upstairs.

* * *

**(A/N) Azura is my favorite Daedra; a side-effect of my obsession over the Dunmer. And while I haven't managed a complete play-through of **_**Morrowind**_** yet, I felt that if I was going to talk about Azura, why not talk about her fine champion (who, at this point in the story, is still running around Vvardenfell)? Connections—they're great.**

**Anyway, I hope that this chapter was long enough to please Aletheya, who has been suffering through my shorter chapters. Remember, next week is the last update for a while!**


	16. Civilized Conversations

**(A/N) Drem yol lok! Since this is my last update for a while, I've got a super-special chapter! It's the longest I've ever written, and I must say I'm very pleased with it.**

* * *

_Chapter 15- Civilized Conversations_

I shoved my way through the crowded streets of Skingrad on my way to Undena's house. It was the Harvest's End festival, the 27th of Last Seed in the year 429. Everybody was out in the street; dancing, drinking, and celebrating the end of a bountiful harvest.

Undena was standing just outside the door to her house, a covered basket looped over her arm. "Hello, Alanna!" she called over the sound of the merrymaking in the street. "You look lovely today, my dear."

I glanced down at my clothes. It had been two years since I had left home, and in that time, I had successfully avoided getting into a dress. But Parwen had insisted on my dressing up this year; stuffing me into a brown blouse and a tan skirt, then forcing me to sit still while she yanked my hair into an elaborate braid. "Shall we head to the Two Sisters?" I asked.

"Yes, let's go before this crowd gets any thicker," she replied.

We slowly made our way up the street to the nearby Two Sisters Lodge, which seemed to be the center for all festivals in Skingrad. Mog gra-Mogakh was inviting everyone in with promises of free drinks, which made the place packed.

"Come on in, ladies!" she said when she saw Undena and me. "Those the tomatoes you promised, Undena? We'll eat well tonight!"

I smiled. The soup Mog made with Undena's tomatoes was nothing short of legendary. Undena and I walked into the crowded common room of the Lodge, greeting people we knew.

"Here's a free table, Alanna," Undena said when we got to the corner of the common room. Sure enough, there was one unoccupied table, which was a miracle when the place was so full. "Go on and sit down, dear. I'll put the tomatoes behind the bar for Mog, and I'll get us both some drinks."

"I can do that, Undena," I offered, reaching for the basket. She didn't need to have to fight her way through the room.

"Do you really think I'll let someone as delicate as you push through all these people?" she demanded. "Sit down, young lady."

I sat down as directed, frowning as Undena walked away. She was a stubborn woman, which was one of the things I admired about her, but sometimes it was just silly.

"You know, sometimes I think you don't know how to smile." I turned my head and was shocked to see the priest Martin standing by my seat. "Mind if I sit with you for a moment?" he asked, gesturing to the chair beside me. "I won't be here long."

I nodded blankly, staring at him with wide eyes. "What are you doing here?" I blurted out. The last few times I had been in Kvatch, I hadn't seen him at all. He looked different; still the same features, but his expression was no longer innocent and curious. He seemed more solemn, more like what a priest should be. His icy gaze passed over the partying masses as if observing a funeral, then turned to look at me.

"Such a welcome," he said dryly, his lips quirking into a half-smile. "I am in Skingrad because I am going to be studying at the Chapel of Julianos for the next year." He looked over the crowd again. "Besides, everyone knows that Skingrad is the place to be for the Harvest's End festival."

I nodded again, and we fell into an uncomfortable silence, watching the other people in the tavern. It was broken by Undena returning with drinks. "Oh, Alanna, I didn't realize you had company," she said, setting two glasses of wine on the table. "Would you like me to get you something to drink, sir?"

"No, sera, that's perfectly all right," Martin replied, smiling kindly at her. "I'm afraid I do not drink. Here, let me move so you can sit." He stood, making way for Undena to sit down.

"Thank you, sir," she said, sitting down. "You are a kind boy. What is your name?"

"I am Martin," he replied. "I am on my way to the Chapel of Julianos to continue my studies for the priesthood."

"A priest? How lovely! How long have you been studying?"

"About two years. After I finish at the Chapel of Julianos, I will be returning to Kvatch to become a fully-ordained priest of Akatosh." He nodded. "I should be going. Tumindil will be waiting for me at the Chapel."

"Oh, let Alanna go with you," Undena offered, and I frowned. "She can guide you to the Chapel."

"While I thank you for your kindness, sera, that's quite unnecessary," Martin said at the same time as I interjected, "Nobody with half a brain needs to be guided to the Chapel. It's the largest building inside the walls."

"Alanna, where are your manners?" she scolded, frowning. "You're always talking about how the Fighters Guild exists to aid the citizens of Tamriel. Go on and show Brother Martin here to the Chapel. I'll make sure no one takes your seat."

I sighed, standing up. "Fine, let's go," I said, leading the way through the throng and to the door. Martin followed close behind me.

"Was that your mother?" he asked as we got out onto the street. I sensed that he was just trying to make polite conversation.

"No," I replied. "Undena sort of adopted me when I moved to Skingrad."

"Oh. She seems like a kind woman."

"She is. The only person I know who is kinder than Undena is my own mother." I absently reached up to brush my fingers against my black rose pendant. My mother's birthday was in a week. The third one I would miss. Every year since I was five years old, I had gone to the market with my father to find her something special. It was the only time we had ever really gotten along, which had meant more to my mother than the gift itself.

"Is your mother in Morrowind?"

"Curiosity is unbecoming of a priest," I muttered, making him chuckle softly. When I looked over at him, though, he was solemn once more.

"So I was taught at the Chapel of Dibella," he said. "I spent the last year there, studying."

"Where's the Chapel of Dibella?" I asked, now curious myself. That would explain why I hadn't seen him in Kvatch.

"Anvil," he replied. "A lovely city, if you don't mind the drunken sailors. Have you ever been there?"

I shook my head. "I know it's one of the training centers for the Fighters Guild, but I trained in Chorrol."

"A shame. I strongly recommend a visit." We turned at the end of the street, and the Great Chapel of Julianos loomed ahead of us. Martin turned to me and bowed slightly. "Thank you for your guidance, sera Alanna."

"No problem," I said, shrugging in dismissal. "I guess I'll be seeing you haunting around the Chapel, then. Until next time."

As I made my way back to the Two Sisters, I realized that I had just had a full, mostly civilized conversation with a priest whom I had been sure I hated. Fate certainly worked in strange ways.

Undena was waiting for me when I got back into the tavern. "Did he find his way to the Chapel all right?" she asked.

"Yep," I replied simply, sitting down in my miraculously vacant seat. I grabbed my glass of wine, sipping absently at it while staring at the crowd. I began to remember why I hated parties so much. These people were too damn noisy.

* * *

A few weeks later, I found myself at the Chapel of Julianos, wondering why I had let Fadus convince me to attend a service with him. I was sitting on a pew in the back of the Chapel, listening to the priest Tumindil talk about the Divine of literature, law, history, and contradiction. It was actually rather intriguing, but only because my mind was trying to figure out how an Altmer could honestly believe such foolishness. There was no proof that the Divines existed, while I had read the words of the Tribunal and had heard the voice of a Daedric Prince. What did this Julianos have? A gigantic stone building and a raving Altmer. It wasn't worth much, in my opinion.

After the service, Fadus left me to go talk to Marie, the healer. I stood in the back, nervously waiting for him to return, when Martin appeared in my vision.

"I must say, I wasn't expecting to see you here," he said, standing next to me.

"Fadus convinced me to come," I replied, nodding to where Fadus was showing Marie a cut from a goblin's arrow on his forearm. "I'll admit, I was curious about it."

"Well, you're not a priest, so you're allowed some curiosity," he remarked. I smiled slightly as I recognized my words from two years ago, which now seemed to be something of a joke between us. "You did not seem to enjoy the sermon, though."

I sighed. "I don't understand how you do it," I said, shaking my head. "You praise the Nine and pray to them for help, but how do you know they're really listening? How do you even know they exist? They leave no proof."

"That very question has been asked many times," he replied after a long pause. His voice was soft, and I looked over to see that he was deep in thought. "Even I have asked it before. There is no tangible proof that the Divines exist, for they do not physically manifest themselves in our world. It is simply a matter of faith."

"Faith?" I asked, frowning. "I still don't understand. I cannot have faith without proof that what I believe is real."

"That is how our faith is different, then," Martin said. "But tell me truly; do you really have proof?"

"Yes," I replied vehemently. "I have heard the voice of Azura with my own ears. I have read the words of the Daedra all my life. I have plenty of proof of their existence, and therefore I have faith. I know you cannot say the same for your Divines. How can you have faith without proof?"

"I do not know," he replied, shaking his head. "I just know that I have faith, and that is enough for me." He looked at me, a kind of respect in his icy blue eyes. "It's been a while since I've heard such a challenge of the faith," he said, holding his hand out for me to shake. "It's quite refreshing, honestly. You are a very intriguing woman, sera Alanna. I think we have much we could teach one another."

I raised an eyebrow as I shook his hand. "I'm afraid I know little that would interest a priest of Akatosh," I remarked.

"I may be a priest, but I am also a scholar of all faiths," he explained. "I am interested all religious belief, be it for the Divines, Daedra, or something wholly different. I wish to learn why people believe as they do. I do not doubt you could teach me much about the religious practices of the Dunmer."

I nodded slowly, letting his words sink in. "That makes sense," I said. "I would be honored to teach you. I guess I could attempt to learn something of the worship of the Divines while I'm at it. Two years I've lived in Cyrodiil, and I still know little about the religion."

"It's a deal, then," Martin smiled slightly. "Your friend is waiting for us to finish, I believe."

I turned to see Fadus standing a respectful distance away, obviously waiting for me. The wound on his arm looked fully healed. "I should go, then. Good day, Martin."

"Good day, Alanna," he replied. "Go with Ak-Azura."

I smiled at his attempt to humor me, then walked over to Fadus. "Did Marie fix you up?" I asked as we left the Chapel.

"Yep," he said, showing me his now-whole forearm. "Good as new. I saw you chatting with the new acolyte. You two know each other?"

"Somewhat. We met while I was doing a contract in Kvatch—he's going to be a priest of Akatosh."

"That's nice. Kvatch may be a rowdy city, but they have the best priests in Cyrodiil, in my opinion. That acolyte seems like a nice kid."

As we walked back to the Fighters Guild hall, I went over my conversation with Martin. Once again, I had been civilized and polite. Maybe I was warming up to the strange priest with the piercing eyes. After all, I had agreed to let him teach me about the Divines, and in return, I would teach him about Azura. I felt that there might actually be some civilized conversations in our futures.

* * *

**(A/N) Songs of friendship, songs of ship-friends! I hope I made Martin seem more like himself in this chapter; as usual, don't hesitate to throw things at me if you don't like it (I'm a beast at dodging).**

**Did anyone notice the date? It's the 27****th**** of Last Seed, which means the Oblivion Crisis is exactly FOUR YEARS AWAY! I'm moving us at a snail's pace right now, but I promise, it will start speeding up. For now, though, I've got to go. I love all of you, and I'll see you in August!**


	17. A Terrifying Prophecy

**(A/N) It's great to be back home and able to update again. I got a **_**ton**_** of writing done while I was away (it was either that or Ultimate Frisbee—and easy choice for me). Since you've all been waiting so patiently, and since I got so much done, I've got something special for you. *Cue Billy Mays voice* I'm giving you this limited-time offer of four, yes, **_**four **_**chapters for the price of one!**

* * *

_Chapter 16- A Terrifying Prophecy_

There were no words for how much I hated Leyawiin. It was hot, humid, and all-around a miserable place. I pulled my hood up closer to my face as the rain from a winter thunderstorm pelted my back, grumbling to myself about the stupid marsh. It wasn't even noon yet, but the sky was dark enough for dusk.

I was on my way to the Mages Guild hall. I had joined the Mages Guild in Skingrad not long after the Harvest's End festival, deciding that it was time I learned magic. I turned out to be very good at using magical fire, impressing my mentors enough that they suggested I go to the Arcane University to study with the wizard Raminus Polus. He was apparently an expert with elemental magic.

I had politely declined formal training, citing my Fighters Guild duties as a reason to keep me in Skingrad. I did, however, want to learn a spell for detecting others. I was sick of people and animals sneaking up on me while I was traveling. To learn such a spell, though, I had been directed to Alves Uvenim. So here I was, in the middle of Morning Star of 430, walking through a thunderstorm to get to the Leyawiin Mages Guild.

Leyawiin could be described by some as a beautiful city, but only if they were blind. There were a few nice buildings—the Fighters Guild hall being one of them—but most of the city was falling apart. The Khajiiti and Argonians lived in the worst part of town, looked down upon by the racist Nibeneans. The city was a melting pot of different cultures, and the tensions between each culture were almost visible in the hot, sticky marsh air. But the Count was a fool, and therefore refused to see what was happening in his city, claiming it to be one of the finest in Cyrodiil. At least Bravil made no secret of its squalor, something I could respect if not particularly like.

I finally reached the Mages Guild hall and ducked inside, shaking water from my cloak. A Khajiit in a brown robe was sitting at a bench reading, but stood when he saw me.

"Welcome to the Leyawiin Mages Guild," he greeted me. "This one is S'drassa. Do you need help with something?"

"Yes. Sulinus Vassinus at the Skingrad hall told me to come here to learn about spells that detect life," I replied.

S'drassa nodded. "You'll be wanting Alves, then. Check that room there." He gestured to a doorway, then sat back down with his book.

I went through the door to find a young Dunmer woman standing at a counter, crushing something with a mortar and pestle. From the smell, she was using aloe vera leaves. "Greetings," she said simply, not looking up from her work. "May I help you, sera?"

"I've been told that you were the one to talk to about learning spells that detect life."

She looked up, nodding. "I can help you learn the basics, but you'll have to see Agata or Dagail for anything more than that." She set her mortar and pestle down, holding a hand out for me to shake. "Alves Uvenim, Journeyman of the Guild. I'm the local alchemist."

"Alanna, Associate," I replied, returning her handshake. "I'm afraid I do not know much about the Mysticism school of magic. I specialize in elemental fire, but I wish to learn how to tell if others are around me."

"Being able to detect life is a useful skill for a traveler like yourself," she said, returning to her work. "Fortunately, it is easy to learn, and even easier to master. You know the basic part of casting a spell, correct?"

"Yes, sera," I replied. "You must draw the magicka from within yourself and shape it to your will."

"Correct. Now, to make a flame appear in your hand, for example, you will your magicka to gather in your hand in the form of a flame. Detecting life is a bit different. You must draw your magicka out of your body, willing it to find other sources of magical energy. Every sentient being has some magicka in them, and your magicka reflects from theirs to show you their location. The farther out you push your magicka, the more distance your spell will cover." She gazed at me with patient eyes, nodding in encouragement. "Try it. You will know it worked when you see me begin to glow in your eyes."

It was hard. I was used to gathering magicka in a concentrated point; trying to spread it out was an action as foreign to me as playing the lute. Alves continued to work, waiting for me to complete the task.

"Try to imagine your magicka spreading around you, like a bubble of sorts," she suggested, not looking up from the mixture she was stirring in a small pot. "Often the visual brings more success."

I frowned as I tried to imagine it. My magicka was wavering from my control; I let it go to stabilize, placing a hand on the desk to balance myself. After a moment, I felt it was stable enough to try again. Keeping the image of a bubble in mind, I pushed my magicka out from my body, looking over at Alves.

My eyes widened. She was glowing with a strange purplish light that seemed to radiate from a point near her heart. I had done it!

"I can see from your excitement that you figured it out," Alves said, smiling at me. "The first time is always the most amazing. Keep practicing, and maybe someday you'll be as good as Dagail."

"What about me?" An elderly-looking Bosmer woman had wandered into the room, looking a little lost. She looked at Alves, frowning slightly. "Child, I wanted to see if… if you required any… ingredients. The next… shipment… will be coming in… soon." Her voice was strangely distant, and she trailed off at times, as if she didn't remember what she was saying.

"I wrote down what I need," Alves said kindly, handing the Bosmer a piece of paper. "Thank you, Dagail."

"You are… welcome, child," the woman replied, smiling. She looked at me, and suddenly all appearance of incoherency was gone. Her brown eyes sharpened, gazing at me with awe and interest. Suddenly, she grabbed my hand in hers, staring intently at my palm.

"Yes, you are the child I heard," she said, tracing the lines on my palm with shaking fingers. "A chosen of the keeper of black roses, the Shadow-Lion that guards the Dragon. The Shadow-Lion rises from the mortal cage to become trapped in the strings of Fate, but she manipulates the strings in turn. She sees, hears, lives beyond what is mortal, the unrelenting guard against the breaking of Dawn. The Fires are dark; the Jewel in the rays of Dawn, but with the Shadow-Lion and the Dragon, there is hope."

I stared in wide-eyed shock as the sorceress released my hand, placing her fingertips on my forehead. "I have foreseen death and destruction in your path, child—some by your hand, some by others. It is my great hope that whatever gods watch over you guide your hands to stay the carnage." With that, she walked away, her steps regaining their wandering quality until I was unsure if I had just imagined her burst of clarity.

"What was that?" I finally managed to choke out, looking at Alves. She seemed to be as shocked as I was.

"Dagail… she has visions, for lack of a better term." A Nord woman had appeared in the doorway, looking at me with concern. "Most of the time she's all right, but lately she's been getting them more often. She is normally rather incoherent after a vision; judging from her appearance when she walked out of this room, she just saw something very significant. Whatever she told you, Associate, make sure you don't forget it."

"I don't think I could if I wanted to," I said, shaking my head. "That was terrifying."

"You get used to it, after a while," Alves remarked, shrugging. "Though, even I was shocked when she grabbed you like that. Whatever she saw in your future… well, I don't want to know."

* * *

As I sat in meditation that night at the Leyawiin Fighters Guild hall, I thought about what the Bosmer sorceress had said. I wasn't very good at riddles, and she had definitely given me a hard one. Try as I might to make sense of it, the only thing that I understood was that there was going to be danger, and I was going to be guarding something important. Eventually, I gave up, going to bed with a troubled mind.

* * *

**(A/N) Detect Life spells are really cool, but they're hard to write about. I hope my interpretation of **_**Oblivion**_**'s magic system is sufficiently cool enough for you guys.**

**In my personal opinion, Dagail is one of the coolest NPCs in the game. However, her prophecy is seriously overdone. "The City in the Hand, the Hand in the stars..." We could probably all recite it by heart if we wanted to. So I came up with my own prophecy, which is always a dangerous thing to do.**


	18. Another Contract

_Chapter 17- Another Contract_

"Once, Dunmeri custom did allow necromancy, but not on elves," I said, frowning. "That was many years ago, however. Now, necromancy is not tolerated at all, except for the traditional rituals for the ancestors. I do not know why any properly raised Dunmer would wish to practice such wicked magic."

Martin and I were sitting on the steps of the Chapel of Julianos, enjoying a breezy day in the beginning of Mid Year, 430. We were discussing Dunmeri ancestor worship, and Martin had brought up necromancy. Although it was against our custom, many Dunmer were necromancers.

"Perhaps they do it because it's forbidden," Martin suggested, his eyebrows knitting together the way they did when he was deep in thought. After nearly a year of these conversations and our developing friendship, I could read his expressions like a book. "Maybe it is not the act itself that draws them to it, but instead the lure of the taboo." He frowned. "Of course, that does not condone their actions. Necromancy is evil magic, no matter who practices it. The government of Morrowind is right to outlaw it. I still can't believe the Mages Guild tolerates it."

"If Hannibal Traven becomes Arch-Mage, it won't be tolerated anymore," I remarked. There were rumors in the Mages Guild halls that Arch-Mage Cylsandra was preparing for retirement, and bets were secretly being placed on who would succeed her. My money was on Traven, who was intelligent and had apparently done a fine job running the Anvil Guild hall before joining the Council. His only drawback was his zealous hatred of necromancy, which had made him just as many enemies as it had friends.

"Hey Panther!" We looked up to see Parwen running towards me, grinning. "Guess what!"

"I'm not interested in a goblin hunt, Parwen," I said, raising an eyebrow at her.

"No, it's not a goblin hunt," she replied, bouncing to a stop in front of me. "We just got a good Imperial City contract, so I came to find you before Fadus finds out about it."

"Really?" I asked, jumping up. "We haven't gotten a contract from the City in months! Is Bravil finally tired of hogging all of them?"

"Apparently so. Ah-Malz just got the contract details a few minutes ago. I left as soon as I heard it was from the City."

I grinned. "Parwen, have I mentioned lately that you're an amazing friend?"

"I'm the best, I know," she said, smiling back. "You better hurry. Fadus has been itching for a City contract, too."

I turned to Martin, who had stood as well. "You seem to have a quest," he said, a slight smile playing on his lips. "I have duties to attend to, anyway. Have fun in the City, and stay safe." He nodded to Parwen and smiled at me, then retreated into the Chapel.

* * *

The Imperial City contract was the best kind: dungeon clearing. The client wanted us to clear Dzonot Cave of the bandits that inhabited it, and had already paid in advance. Since I wasn't permitted to perform such contracts on my own anymore, Fadus was assigned to the contract as well. We set out that afternoon for the City.

"This shouldn't be too hard," Fadus said, grinning as we walked towards the Red Ring Road. "We can go clear out the cave, then spend the night in the City. Where's your favorite place to stay?"

"Luther Broad's," I replied. "Although I can always spend the night in the Arcane University for free, Luther's is a great place. It's cheap, clean, and has great food. The only shein this side of Cheydinhal, too."

"What's shein?" he asked.

"Wine made from comberries," I explained. "Comberries grow exclusively in Morrowind, specifically the Deshaan Plain near Narsis and the Ascadian Isles on Vvardenfell. Shein isn't popular outside of Morrowind, since you Imperials prefer sweet wines, but Luther stocks it for his Dunmeri customers."

"Sounds interesting. Maybe I'll try some once we get there," he said. I chuckled, imagining what the look on his face would be when he tried it.

* * *

"What do you want to do, Panther?" Fadus asked me quietly. We were camped out behind a rock, watching the entrance to Dzonot Cave. A lone bandit sentry sat outside, fast asleep with a pile of empty bottles beside him.

I considered our options. The sentry looked well and truly out; we could probably walk right by him if we wanted to. But something about him seemed a bit off. I suspected a trick.

"Wait here," I murmured to Fadus, unsheathing my sword as quietly as I could. "Don't move."

I crept around the rock, moving in a large circle so that I came up beside the sentry. My leather armor made very little noise in the sand, and the man gave no notice that he had heard me. Up close, my suspicions were confirmed; he was far too tense to be asleep.

Before he could open his eyes and notice me, I hit him in the temple with the pommel of my sword. He only let out a muffled grunt as he went unconscious. Motioning Fadus forward with one hand, I lowered the bandit to the ground and slit his throat.

"That… doesn't seem very honorable, Panther," Fadus said when he caught up to me. "I don't like the whole 'sneaking around' concept."

"It may not be honorable in your opinion, but to me, it's just good strategy," I replied, grabbing the bandit's arms and dragging him to the sand. "I don't want to end up rotting in this cave because I just charged in without thinking."

"Fair enough." Fadus still didn't seem impressed.

"Do you feel that looting is dishonorable, as well?" I asked, examining the bandit's mace. "Take what you want from this one, because I'm about to burn him."

Fadus quickly looked over the body and pocketed a small coin purse. "Go ahead," he said, taking a step back. He knew how I disposed of bodies, and had learned the hard way that standing too close was a bad idea.

I carefully arranged the body so that his arms were folded over his chest, his mace once more placed at his belt. Standing up, I focused my magicka into two white-hot orbs in my palms. "May whatever gods watched over you in life watch over your soul in death," I murmured, then released my spell.

I averted my eyes as the body burned with a blinding light. When it faded, I looked back to see that all that was left of the bandit was a condensed lump of metal—his armor and mace. I turned to Fadus, who was gazing solemnly at the sight. "Let's go clear this place out," I said.

* * *

About two hours later, we stood outside the cave once more, joined by an Orc who claimed to be an adventurer from Orsinium. He had helped us kill the bandit ringleader, then had gathered a few items of value to take home. "May you find all that you seek, travelers," he said once we were outside, saluting to us and walking away.

Fadus was inclined to leave the cave, as well. "Come on, Panther, let's go on up to the City. It's getting dark out here."

We were quiet as we walked into the City and to the Elven Gardens. I led the way to Luther's, holding the door open for Fadus.

"Welcome, Alanna!" Luther called from behind the bar. His assistant, Winson, looked up and managed a wave before turning back to whatever he was cooking. Nobody else was there yet.

"Hey, Luther," I said, sitting down at my usual stool in front of the bar. "You got rooms for the night?"

"Sure do," he replied. "Two, I'm assuming?"

"Yep. I'm paying." I placed twenty septims on the bar. "Fadus, come on over and sit down. We'll take whatever brilliant creation Winson's working on, a glass of shein for me, and… what do you want to drink, Fadus?"

"Some wine would be lovely, thank you," Fadus said to Winson, sitting down at my right.

"You've got it. Baurus should be in tonight, Alanna. He just got a promotion not too long ago; he's a Palace Guard now."

"A Palace Guard, at his age? He must be quite exceptional." Most Palace Guards were in their early forties; Baurus hadn't yet hit thirty.

"Apparently so. His superiors are quite pleased with him, so I've heard. And I have a strange knack for hearing the truth." Luther winked, setting plates of roast mutton and carrots down in front of Fadus and me. "Winson's special recipe," he said. "And we've got some apple pie left over from last night if you want some of that."

"You bet I would," I replied with a smile. "It will be a cold day in Oblivion before I turn down Winson's cooking."

"It's really not all that great," Winson insisted, his cheeks coloring slightly. He always blushed whenever someone complimented his cooking, claiming that it was just a drunkard's tossing together of ingredients. While nobody denied that the man was a definite drunkard, and a chronic gambler as well, he was one of the best cooks in the City.

I took a sip of my shein, smiling at the flavor. "Those brewers in Pelagiad must have stumbled upon an excellent batch," I said to Luther. "I haven't had shein this good since I left the Deshaan Plain."

"Yes, this shipment does seem to be a bit higher quality than usual," Luther agreed. "I don't normally get the finest—my suppliers don't seem to want to waste their better products in Cyrodiil—but I've been getting compliments from everybody on this shipment."

"Here, Fadus, you said you wanted to try some," I handed my glass to him.

He took it, peering into the glass. "It doesn't smell like normal wine," he said uncertainly.

"That's because it isn't Cyrodiilic, my friend," Luther explained. "Imperials don't normally like comberry wine—too bitter for our tastes. But Dunmer love the stuff."

As Fadus lifted the glass to his lips, the door opened to reveal Baurus. "Evening, Baurus," Luther greeted him, grinning. "Come on in. Alanna's friend is about to try comberry wine for the first time."

Baurus smiled. "Just don't spit on us," he said to Fadus, walking over and sitting on my other side. We all waited for Fadus to drink.

He took a small sip, and I laughed at the way his face scrunched up in disgust. He set the glass on the bar, forcibly swallowing. "That's… very bitter," he said, shaking his head. "You can keep that stuff, Panther."

I smiled as I took the glass back. "It's an acquired taste." I looked at Baurus and grinned. "So, Palace Guard, huh? You're moving up in the world."

"It's been a trip getting there, though," Baurus said. "Being a Palace Guard is a lot different from just being in the Watch, and my new Captain is a bear to deal with." He smiled. "But I'm managing."

Luther handed him a glass of shein, and I raised mine in a toast. "To dedication. May it get carry you to even greater heights, my friend."

We tapped our glasses together, and settled into a discussion of Fadus' and my contract. That led into the topic of another of Fadus' contracts, and we sat there talking until Winson mentioned that it was one in the morning. Baurus quickly left to head back to the Palace, and Fadus and I headed to bed. Once in my room, I finished with my meditations quickly, and soon fell into a blissfully dreamless sleep.


	19. Ordination

**(A/N) I'm really excited about this chapter; it's not exactly important plot-wise, but I feel that it's an important part in the story of our heroine's friendship with everyone's favorite priest. I could babble on about it for hours, but I'll just let you read it and see what you think.**

* * *

_Chapter 18- Ordination_

I felt like I was ten years old again, sitting with my mother at some House function. I had been stuffed into an uncomfortable dress, my hair mercilessly pulled back into something resembling a lady's hairstyle, and I was trying hard not to fidget in my seat. Unlike those functions, though, Undena was sitting beside me instead of my mother, and I was here somewhat by choice.

The stained glass windows of the Chapel of Akatosh glowed with light from the midmorning sun, casting their color upon the stone walls and upon the faithful gathered in the pews. The depictions of the Imperial gods seemed to be looking down upon the main altar, and the man kneeling before it.

Martin had been kneeling before that altar for hours, praying to his gods and contemplating his future as a priest of Akatosh. It was the first step in the ordination ceremony, as I had been told by Oleta, and the most important. It was during this step that the Divines weighed the strength of Martin's beliefs and decided whether he would be a worthy servant or not. I didn't know what would happen if they deemed him unworthy, but I didn't think we would need to worry about it. Martin's faith in his gods was strong, possibly stronger than my faith in Azura. The Divines would be foolish not to accept him.

Ilav Dralgoner, the Primate of the Chapel, stepped forward. "Greetings, my brothers and sisters in faith," he said. Martin gave no indication of hearing him, his head bowed in prayer. "Welcome to the Chapel of Akatosh, where we have gathered on this day, the twenty-sixth of Last Seed, to see a new priest brought into the embrace of the Divines. Before we begin the ordination ceremony, I would ask you to join me in prayer." I bowed my head obediently as Ilav began his litany, letting his voice wash over me without really hearing it.

Suddenly, I felt as if I were in hostile territory, that this was a place where I did not belong. All of my instincts screamed for me to run out the door. It took every shred of my willpower to remain still in my seat and not draw attention to myself. Undena seemed to understand my panic, and grasped my hand. I clung to her to regain control, her familiar presence calming me somewhat.

Ilav was incredibly long-winded, and his prayer lasted for several minutes before we could finally raise our heads. Martin hadn't moved at all during that time, which had me wondering if he were in some sort of trance. Ilav turned to the window depicting Akatosh and raised his hands to it. "Our father Akatosh, He who came before all others, Dragon God of Time, do you find this man worthy of becoming your newest servant?"

We all waited for a moment; for what, I wasn't sure. Then Martin raised his head, his trance apparently broken.

That seemed to be the answer Ilav was looking for. "Brother Martin, the Divines have deemed you worthy of their embrace," he declared. He stepped between Martin and the altar, placing his hands on the younger man's head. "Brother Martin, please make your affirmation of service and faith."

Martin was silent for a moment, but then his voice rang out, clear and strong. "I do hereby dedicate my life and soul to the service of Akatosh and the Nine Divines. My faith shall guide me through all trials, and shall not falter. This I swear, and should I forsake this sacred oath, should I turn my back on the embrace of the Divines, may my soul never find the peace of Aetherius."

Ilav nodded gravely. "Then rise, Brother Martin, as a priest of Akatosh," he said, removing his hands from Martin's head.

Martin stood a little shakily, which was understandable, given that he had been in the same position for hours. He turned to face the people amassed in the pews, his icy eyes sweeping over each seat. They rested on me, sitting in the back row, and I managed a smile for him. No matter what religion, becoming a priest was a fine thing, and I was proud of my friend.

"I would like to thank all of you for being here to share this day with me," he said to the crowd. "Three years I have studied and prayed, and it led to this day, this moment, when I would become a true servant of the Divines. And I know that without all of you, who have been here to teach me, to support me, to encourage me, I might not be standing here today. I thank you, all of you, and I ask you to join me in prayer." His eyes met mine again, and I saw a trace of apology. He knew that the prayers made me uncomfortable.

I bowed my head once more, and Martin prayed for the Divines' mercy and grace, to show us all the path of light and life, and to let our souls be accepted into Aetherius. I sat very still, though my urge to run away wasn't as strong now. I knew that Martin understood me, and he wouldn't be trying to convert me every chance he got. That made the prayer more bearable, somehow.

"And with the grace of the Divines, it is so," he ended. The crowd repeated him, then gradually, everyone got to their feet. Some people left right away, and some lingered, probably hoping to speak with the newest priest of Akatosh.

"I'll go wait at the inn, dear," Undena said to me, squeezing my hand before standing up. "Do tell him that I give my congratulations." I nodded, and she squeezed my hand once more before letting go of it and making her way to the door.

I remained seated, waiting for the crowd to thin a bit before I went to talk to Martin. It took a while, but finally everyone had either moved to one of the altars for prayer, went to speak with Oleta or Ilav, or had left. I stood carefully, smoothing my skirt with one hand, and walked to where Martin stood by one of the pillars.

"I wasn't sure if you would be here," Martin said as I stopped in front of him. "I wouldn't have been upset had you not come. I know this place makes you uncomfortable."

"I am not that selfish," I replied softly. "I think it is worth a little discomfort to see a friend achieve his life's goal. Undena offers her congratulations." I looked down at the package I was holding. "I was unsure of whether it was proper to give one a gift for their ordination, and I see that I am the only one who brought something. But I feel that it is appropriate, given the occasion."

I handed him the package, smiling as he unwrapped it. "It is very hard to find a copy in Cyrodiil. I just happened to come across it while I was in the Imperial City two weeks ago."

"_Varieties of Faith in the Empire_." Martin ran a hand over the cover of the book, which I had been lucky enough to find brand-new. "You know me well, Alanna. I thank you."

"It's merely repayment for all that you've done for me," I said. "I am glad that although you have become a priest, we can retain our friendship. I may even come listen to a sermon or two occasionally."

"I would appreciate it greatly if you did," he replied with a smile. "Whenever you can find time away from your Fighters Guild duties, of course. I know that your contracts have been picking up lately."

"I'll manage it."

Oleta came over. "Welcome, friend," she said to me, nodding. "Brother Martin, I extend my congratulations, as always. You were a fine student, and will be a fine priest."

"So long as I'm not too curious," Martin replied, with a glance at me. I grinned. "Well, Alanna, as much as I'd love to stay and chat, I now have duties that need tending. I hope that you prevail in all your quests, and may your moon and star guide your steps."

"Thank you, Martin," I said. "Walk with virtue and honor, and may your Divines bless you." With a nod to Oleta, I turned and started off to find Undena.

* * *

**(A/N) Okay, disclaimer time: I am not a religious person, and therefore have never witnessed an ordination from any religion. The ceremony detailed in this chapter was created from what I looked up on Wikipedia and my own ideas of what an ordination would be like. In no way do I mean any offense to any particular religion or religious ceremony. I apologize greatly if anyone does take offense.**


	20. New Leaders, New Policies

**(A/N) Remember Alanna and Martin's conversation in Chapter 17 about necromancy? If not, that's all right, because this one deals with it in full force. Since we've all played **_**Oblivion**_**, there won't be any surprises in this chapter, but it is pretty important. Now, go on and read it!**

* * *

_Chapter 19- New Leaders, New Policies_

"What news, Adrienne? Who is it?"

Everybody was gathered by the table when I walked into the Mages Guild hall. I went over to see a worn-out Adrienne Berene sitting at the table, picking at a plate of mutton and vegetables in silence. Her bag was beside her, and it was obvious she had only just returned.

"Come on, everybody, back off," I said. "Let the woman rest a bit before bombarding her with your questions."

"Listen to the Apprentice," Adrienne ordered, her voice weary. "I will reveal nothing until I am properly recovered from the journey."

Grumbling, the mages retreated, though none of them went far. I stayed beside Adrienne. "Is there anything I can do for you, Adrienne?" I asked.

"Just leave me in peace for the moment, Shadow-Lion," she replied, using my Mages Guild nickname. It had caught on after word of Dagail's vision had gotten around. "It has been a trying few days, and I need to relax for a few minutes."

I nodded, then turned to go find a book to read. Sulinus was sitting at the table, and he looked up when I came in. "I still say it's Jarol," he said quietly.

"We'll find out in a few minutes," I replied. "And you better have your money ready if it's Traven."

The rumors had proven true, and Arch-Mage Cylsandra had announced in Sun's Dawn, 431 that she was going to retire. It was now Sun's Dusk, and the heads of each Guild hall were now returning from a week at the Arcane University for the selection of the newest head of the Mages Guild.

I sat down with a copy of _Daughter of the Niben_, trying to kill some time until Adrienne was ready to tell us who had been voted to Arch-Mage. Sulinus was reading as well, and soon Druja and Vigge came in and sat down with books. We were all pretending to read when Adrienne came in.

"All right, everyone," she said, and we immediately shut our books and set them aside. "I know you're all very excited to hear about who has become our new leader. I also know that you've been making wagers on it, so I'm just going to ask that you take your money out now and set it before you. I don't want to listen to complaints about not being paid."

I reached into my coin purse and pulled out the money that I had wagered; twenty septims for Sulinus if it was Irlav Jarol, twenty for Vigge if it was Caranya, and ten for Druja if it was Vermiah Avalam. Adrienne waited until we all had our money on the table before continuing.

"It took us two days to narrow the choices to three individuals: Irlav Jarol, Caranya, and Hannibal Traven," she said, and Druja shrugged. She had told us that she didn't believe Vermiah stood much of a chance, which is why she had wagered ten septims instead of twenty. Adrienne nodded to her. "With three contenders, it took longer than usual to finish the voting. The three of them tied every time. Finally, by the narrowest margin in several hundred years, one was chosen." She paused, and we started to lean forward in our seats, waiting with baited breath for what she would say next.

"The Arch-Mage of the Mages Guild is… Hannibal Traven."

We sat silent for several moments. Then Sulinus spoke up. "Well, I hope none of you were planning on studying necromancy anytime soon," he said, sliding twenty septims across the table to me. "How soon will we see the practice banned, Adrienne?"

"Arch-Mage Traven is calling magisters from across Tamriel for a debate on the subject," she replied. "I would say that necromancy will be banned by the New Life festival." She frowned. "Things are going to be much tenser from now on, I believe. All of you, please be careful with where your studies lead you. I know that none of you are practicing necromancers, but Traven will be watching everyone very closely, and I wish to have no suspicion cast upon this hall."

Adrienne turned and left the room, and we immediately broke into discussion. "This is a bad sign, I think," Vigge said, his brows furrowing. "Traven is a good man, and a capable mage, but his hatred of necromancy is going to tear the Guild apart."

"I think we'll be seeing a significant decline in membership," Druja added. "And the Guild will be making many enemies. We must all take a lesson from Vigge and be cautious in our work."

Vigge and Druja handed their wagers to me. "I had thought you were being foolish with your belief that Traven would be Arch-Mage," Vigge admitted. "You seem to have better insight than I, Shadow-Lion."

* * *

As Adrienne had predicted, by the beginning of Morning Star it was decreed that necromancy was banned from the Mages Guild, and that we would not deal with those who openly practiced it. In protest, half of the Council of Mages resigned, and the population of the Arcane University plummeted. It was shocking to see how many had supported the study of necromancy within the Guild.

Each Guild hall was undergoing changes to accommodate the new idea of hall specializations. The Skingrad hall was assigned the specialization of Destruction magic, which was fine with me. I practiced burning things and tried not to think of the convoluted ways that my studies could be tied to necromancy. If somebody wanted me out of the Guild, all they had to do was connect my learning to the Black Arts, and I'd be gone faster than I could cast a spell to detect life.

Security in the Arcane University was another change. Non-members were banned from the University grounds, excluding the lobby of the Arch-Mage's Tower. The grounds were also barred from Associates in the Guild, who now had to get recommendations from each Guild head to achieve Apprentice rank and access to the University. Since I was already an Apprentice, it did not affect me, but I knew that some members were complaining about it. The reforms were making Arch-Mage Traven just as many enemies as it was friends.

"I am glad that necromancy is banned from the Guild, but the battle is far from over," Delphine Jend told me when I visited the Bravil hall. "There are likely still necromancers who are just not openly practicing it, and Traven will not rest until every one of them is out of the Guild. Everything is changing, Shadow-Lion, and we must be careful not to be caught in the nets."

"The Guild gains new enemies every day," Falcar, the leader of the Cheydinhal hall, said to me. "The banning of necromancy is going to be the death of the Guild, you mark my words. We're going to end up tearing each other apart, accusing one another of being necromancers, and eventually we'll all just blow ourselves up."

* * *

"I must admit, I am concerned for you," Martin said when I spoke to him about it. We were standing near the gate in Kvatch, the sounds of the city washing over us. "Should you make any enemies in the Guild, all they must do is accuse you of necromancy, and your reputation is ruined."

"Trust me, I know," I replied. "Luckily, I have no enemies in the Mages Guild, and I hope to not make any. I'm being careful, Martin, I promise."

"So long as you remain cautious, you should not have to worry," he said solemnly. "Though you should be careful concerning your worship of Azura, as well. In many minds, Daedra worship and necromancy go hand in hand."

"Which I think is foolish," I shook my head. "Azura cares little for necromancers, though She does not feel as strongly as Meridia." I had been asked, very delicately, whether I practiced necromantic rituals when I went to Azura's shrine for Hogithum. The very thought of practicing dark magic in such a holy place had angered me to the point of nearly running the asker through with my sword.

"Foolish or no, it is something you must be wary of," Martin said. "Just watch yourself, Alanna. That's all I ask of you."

"I'm always careful, my friend," I replied with a smile.

* * *

**(A/N) Ah, necromancy. It causes so many problems. I personally hate undead, so I tend to stay as far away from it as possible. Only one of my four **_**Oblivion**_** characters made it to being Arch-Mage (Alison, in case you're wondering).**

**There will probably be multiple updates next week, since I love you guys so much. And because I got a **_**lot**_** done, and I hate writing too far ahead of what I've already posted.**


	21. Rumare's Shadow

**(A/N) Three chapters today, my little Adoring Fans! Really, if you've stuck with me this far, you all deserve baskets of cheese and sweetrolls.**

* * *

_Chapter 20- Rumare's Shadow_

I whistled cheerfully to myself as Iwalked through the Imperial City's Market District on my way to A Fighting Chance. It was the thirtieth of First Seed, 432. The sword I had ordered from Rohssan as my birthday present to myself was ready to be picked up, and I was excited to see my new blade.

"Welcome to A Fighting Chance," Rohssan said as I walked into the store. "How can I help you today?"

"I'm here to pick up the sword I ordered. It's called the Panther's Claw."

Rohssan's face blanched. "Oh, dear," she murmured, her gaze dropping to her counter. "I—I'm afraid I can't help you with that."

"Why not?" I asked, frowning.

"It, uh… it was stolen from my storage room last night," she replied, her voice lowering. "Rumare's Shadow apparently decided that he wanted it."

"Rumare's Shadow?" I asked, my frown deepening at the vaguely familiar name. Luther might have mentioned it once…

"The most skilled thief in the City," Rohssan said quietly, not lifting her gaze. "Nobody knows what he looks like, even if it is a 'he'. Just about all of the merchants in the City have been targeted. I went to my storage room this morning to pick up an order for another customer, and yours was gone. In its place was this." She pulled a piece of paper from under the counter, handing it to me. "He always leaves a note."

I unfolded the paper, reading the cramped handwriting upon it.

_Rohssan,_

_I applaud your skill in sword smithing, friend. The Panther's Claw is a fine blade, and I feel that it will serve me well in my endeavors. Give my regards to the generous buyer for me._

_-R.S._

I felt my anger rise at the taunting tone of the note. Not only had this person stolen my sword, but they had also made a fool of Rohssan, who was just trying to run an honest business. The nature of this person was familiar to me, as familiar as a figure in dark leather armor and a black robe sitting at a bar, bragging about their exploits while getting drunk on Luther's ale. I should have known.

The note crumpled as my fist clenched. She was going to pay for this.

"Where are you going?" Rohssan asked as I headed for the door.

I looked over my shoulder at her as I reached for the door handle. "I'm going to get my sword, of course," I replied, pushing the door open before she could reply.

* * *

"Well, isn't this a surprise!" Luther smiled as I walked into the Boarding House. "What brings you to the City on this fine afternoon, Alanna?"

"I was supposed to be picking up a package, but it seems to have been misplaced," I said. "Luther, do you know where Alison Jerick lives?"

"Alison? She's got a place on the Waterfront, I'm pretty sure," he replied. "Why?"

Of course she had a place on the Waterfront. A nest of thieves, the entire damn district. "I have to go talk to her about my misplaced package. You have a room for the night? I'd like to drop some stuff off before I head over to the Waterfront."

"Ten gold, as usual," he said. I handed over the money, and he handed me the key. "You be careful on the Waterfront, Alanna," he warned me. "I know Alison isn't the most pleasant person at times, but she's better than most of the folk who live there."

"I'll keep that in mind," I said as I turned to take my things upstairs.

An hour's time found me fuming at the docks. The Waterfronters were a tight-lipped bunch, especially when matters concerned their star thief. I had gotten nowhere in my search for her house.

A beggar came up to me as I was staring at the lake, trying to calm myself. "'Ello m'lady," he said, bobbing his head when I looked at him.

"I'm no lady, Imperial," I snapped, frowning at the filthy man. At least, not anymore. "What do you want?"

"Well, I 'eard yer lookin' fer Miss Jerick," he replied, smiling to reveal rotten yellow teeth. "I 'appen t'know where she lives, m'lady."

"Ugh, and I bet you just can't remember right now, and about twenty gold will jog your memory, am I right?" I asked in exasperation.

"Ancus, leave the mer alone." A Bosmer woman in leather armor appeared on the beggar's other side. The man slunk away, and the woman made a face at his back before turning to me. "Hello there. I'm Methredhel. Charmed, truly."

"Keep your hand out of my purse, and I'll be just as charmed," I said coldly, staring pointedly at the hand that had slowly been creeping towards me.

"Ah, dangerous and observant," Methredhel said, laughing. "If you weren't so honorable and such, we'd love you on the Waterfront." She chuckled at my confused expression. "Oh, everybody around here knows about the 'ashborn Panther bitch'. Alison doesn't exactly keep quiet when she's drunk."

I knew that all too well. "What do you want, thief?" I asked. "I'm afraid my patience is fast nearing its end, so I'd make it quick."

"All right, I will," she said. "So, I'm assuming you're looking for Alison 'cause she stole something from you, right?" I nodded. "Well, Alison and I aren't exactly the best of friends, so I have no qualms about helping you get whatever it is back from her. I can't steal it back directly—we've got rules and all—but I'll do whatever I can to help you get your property back."

"What's the catch?" I asked suspiciously. "This seems too good. You want something from me."

"Not really. Humiliating Alison is enough for me," she insisted. "Though, I suppose… Knowing Alison, she probably has your property stashed in her house. It's a hot item right now, and it'll be a few days before she hands it over to her fence. In the meantime, she'll be drinking. While she's getting kicked out of every tavern in the City, I can help you get into her house, and you can get whatever it was she stole from you. But while you're getting that, I'd like you to get something for me."

"Yeah, whatever," I said, frowning. Fate was playing me in all sorts of strange ways today. "What is it I'm stealing from the thief?"

"Wait, you're agreeing to do it?" The woman looked incredulous. "Okay. Well, I've been inside her house before. There's a chest near the fireplace where she likes to keep her stolen goods. Inside that chest is a necklace with a silver pendant that looks like a leaf. I want you to get it for me."

"Consider it done," I said. "Just lead me to the house."

* * *

Less than five minutes later, I found myself standing in Alison Jerick's tiny Waterfront shack. The place was a mess; empty bottles of cheap booze lying around, dirty clothes in a pile at the end of the unmade bed, a haphazard stack of weapons on a dresser. A quick check proved that my sword wasn't one of them.

The chest that Methredhel had mentioned was large, capable of holding a lot of ill-gotten goods. I went over to it, casting a spell of detect life and glancing around for any people. Seeing nobody, magically or otherwise, I knelt before the chest and opened it carefully.

At the very top of the pile of stolen goods in the chest was my sword. The scabbard was of good quality leather, with the image of a crouching panther worked into it. I smiled as I picked it up.

Methredhel had told me not to tarry in Alison's house, since the woman had an incredibly unpredictable schedule. I could be discovered at any time. Setting my sword aside for the moment, I looked back in the chest for the necklace Methredhel had wanted. It was a little further down in the chest, a fine silver necklace with a lovely leaf pendant. I snatched it quickly, shutting the chest and picking my sword up from the floor beside me. As silently as I came in, I snuck out of the house of Rumare's Shadow.

* * *

"You find your package, Alanna?" Luther asked as I entered the tavern. Alison was slumped over the bar, a tankard in her hand. She turned her head to glare at me, but froze when she saw the sword at my waist.

"Yes, I found it, Luther," I said with a smile, turning slightly so that the panther on the scabbard was visible. "It was my birthday present to myself this year. Isn't it nice?"

"It looks like it belongs at your side," he replied, nodding in appreciation. "Rohssan's work, if I'm not mistaken?"

"Custom made for me," I said, my smile growing wider as Alison's shock grew. "Its name is Panther's Claw, after my Fighters Guild nickname."

Alison's tankard slammed against the bar, ale spilling over the dark wood. She stood so fast her stool nearly tipped, and she tossed a couple of coins into the puddle of ale before running from the tavern.

"What was her problem?" Winson asked, looking up from the hearth.

"With Jerick, you never know," I said, settling into my normal seat at the bar. "Get me a glass of shein, Luther. Let's have a toast to triumph."

* * *

**(A/N) If any of you guys have read my one-shots (which all feature Alison in some form or another) you'll probably have realized that she's far more honorable and such in them than she is in this story. The one-shots cover her role as the Hero of Kvatch, but since we have a different one here, she fulfills her secondary role as my thief character. Hooray for fanfiction!**


	22. Holidays

**(A/N) I don't really have much to say for this chapter, other than stating that I love writing about parties. I think it's a side-effect of never being invited to parties. *Makes "forever alone" face* Anyway, this chapter is mostly fluffy party stuff, but go ahead and read it anyway!**

* * *

_Chapter 21- Holidays_

"So, Lady Alessia is the Countess Caro now, eh?"

"Yep," I replied, setting my tankard down. Penald and I were sitting at the Two Sisters, getting drinks before heading back to the Guild hall and training. "I feel bad for the Khajiit and Argonians down there."

"We all do, pal," Mog said, putting down the rag she was using to wipe the counter. "I was chatting with some friends of mine who live down that way, and they say that it's getting really tense down there."

"It's getting really tense everywhere," I muttered. "The Mages Guild, Leyawiin, the City… I feel like something big is going to happen soon."

"You mean other than the Emperor's birthday party?" Mog asked jokingly. "It's coming up, you know. I've been practicing my dance steps, for when I get my invitation." She began to twirl around behind the bar, and we all started laughing.

"Now you've just got to wear a skirt as wide as you are tall, and you could pass for a Breton lady," Penald said, grinning.

My smile faded somewhat as I remembered the Breton ladies that had come to visit Narsis when I was a child. They had always seemed like a flock of large, impractical birds, very colorful and always chirping about.

"What's wrong?" Mog asked, seeing the expression on my face.

"She's jealous of your dancing ability," Penald replied. "Can you dance, Panther?"

I was willing to bet I could do every dance that would be performed at the Emperor's birthday party, but I didn't want Penald or Mog to know that. "I'm afraid my kind of dancing wouldn't go over well with the Emperor's guards." I patted my sword.

"Yeah, a dance with Panther will be your last," Mog said. "Anyway, I've been thinking…"

"Oh, that's what that smell was," Penald interrupted, grinning. "I thought you had just burned the mutton."

Mog threw the counter rag at him. "Shut up," she said, though she was also smiling. "I've been thinking about holding a little party here on the thirtieth. We can celebrate the Emperor's birthday here in Skingrad, and we don't have to deal with no Breton nobles."

"When she says 'a little party', she means the entire city will be in here," Penald whispered loudly to me. "Either way, I'd show up."

"What about you, Alanna?" Mog asked. "Does it sound like something you'd come to?"

"If I'm not on contract, sure," I replied. "Your parties are always the best, Mog."

"That's because Orcs know how to have fun," she declared. "Erina over at The West Weald is too grouchy to host good parties."

About half an hour later, Penald and I left to head back to the Guild hall. "I think a good party is just what Skingrad needs right about now," he said. "You were right, Panther. Things are getting very tense. It's like the world is holding its breath, waiting for something to happen… Does that sound strange?"

"Not at all. That's exactly how I feel."

* * *

About a week later, the thirtieth of Frost Fall, was Emperor Uriel Septim's eighty-sixth birthday. Mog hosted a party at the Two Sisters, and almost the entire town showed up. We drank and danced and generally made fools of ourselves, just glad to have something to distract us from the troubles of everyday life.

"To His most gracious Majesty, Uriel Septim VII!" Mog called out, standing on the bar and raising a tankard of ale in a toast. "May your fancy party in the City be at least half as fun as this one!"

"To Uriel Septim!" we all cried as one, grinning and raising glasses and tankards. The drinking and dancing continued, and nobody went home until well after midnight.

"I think this was a lovely idea," Mog said when most of the partiers had left. "We'll have to do this again next year."

"I'm up for that," I replied with a smile.

* * *

"Happy New Life, Panther!" Parwen cried as I stumbled down the steps. I looked blearily around the room to see that it had been heavily decorated with flowers and tree branches.

"Are you trying to turn the hall into an indoor Valenwood?" I asked, my voice still thick with sleep. I hadn't slept well the night before, my old dreams of fire and blood tormenting me. They came more frequently now; at least once a week.

"No, silly," she replied, altogether too happy for so early in the morning. "Come on, I made breakfast!" She grabbed my arm and dragged me to the dining room, where Ah-Malz already sat, looking equal parts confused and sleepy. Parwen had stuck a wrath of flowers on his head, but he either didn't notice or didn't care.

Parwen sat me down at the table and put a filled plate in front of me. She then skipped away and came back with a flower wreath, which she put on my head. "You said you like nightshades, so your wreath is made of them. Just don't eat them!" She bounced away, probably to go wake Fadus and Penald up.

"It's too early to be so alive," I complained to Ah-Malz, grabbing a tankard of ale. The cold liquid helped me wake up a little. I looked at my plate to see that Parwen had made boiled eggs and some sort of spiced rice. In Narsis, boiled kwama eggs and spiced saltrice was a traditional New Life breakfast. I hadn't had it since I had left home, since in Cyrodiil the tradition was sweetrolls and stew. It was touching to see that Parwen had tried to recreate a dish from my homeland for me.

Fadus and Penald came into the dining room, rubbing their eyes. "It's too early, Parwen," Fadus complained.

"It's not early enough," Parwen scolded, forcing the men to sit down at the table. "Now, I tried to make a traditional New Life dish from each of your respective homelands, so shut up and eat." She put flower wreaths on their heads, smacking their hands when they tried to remove them.

"Thank you, Parwen," I said. "This is very thoughtful of you." The others echoed me, and Parwen beamed.

"You're welcome," she replied. "It was my pleasure."

We ate quietly, and once we were all finished Parwen herded us into the basement. The training dummy was surrounded by a pile of wrapped gifts, the ones that we had placed there about a week before. "Sit down, everyone!" Parwen said, bouncing up and down like a small child. We obeyed, sitting in a loose semicircle before the dummy.

"Okay, this one's for Fadus," Parwen picked up a large package and handed it to him. We watched as he carefully opened the packaging to reveal a fine steel shield.

"This is lovely," he said, examining the shield. "Thank you, Penald."

"No problem," Penald replied with a smile.

"Okay Fadus, your turn to go up," Parwen said, sitting down next to me. Fadus reluctantly set his new shield aside and went to the pile of gifts, selecting one and reading the label. He handed it to Ah-Malz and sat down.

"From Alanna," Ah-Malz read, his eyes flicking up to me. "This feels like a book, my friend." I shrugged, grinning as he ripped the paper covering it. "_The Red Book of Riddles_. You must have heard me talking about how much I like riddles. Thank you, Panther."

My gifts had included a new mortar and pestle from Penald, a book about the constellations from Ah-Malz, a sword care kit from Fadus, and a dress from Parwen which she insisted I wear to the party at the Two Sisters. After exchanging gifts, we discussed our goals for the new year, which none of us really planned on fulfilling. I had declared that my goal was to clear out an Ayleid ruin by myself, which made everyone laugh.

* * *

That evening, we headed to the Two Sisters to see Mog and join the party that she was holding. Most of the city was packed into the inn, which wasn't surprising. We chatted with our friends, drank more alcohol than was necessarily safe, and danced to the irregular beat of stomping feet and off-pitch singing.

Somehow, I found myself twirling around with a silver-haired Altmer who introduced himself as Sinderion. He didn't seem to get out much, and was chattering excitedly to me about this potion he had once made with Nirnroot. I tried to listen attentively, but couldn't really hear much through the noise of the other partiers. He didn't seem to mind, though.

Davide Surilie also managed to catch a dance with me, but he was too drunk to be much of a partner. I ended up half-carrying him to a nearby seat, leaving him to slump in his chair. His brother Gaston grabbed my hand and spun me around, making me laugh. We danced for a while, but he eventually left to take his brother home.

"Some party, isn't it?" Fadus asked, appearing by my side. "I'm thinking about going back to the Guild hall. If I stay here much longer, I'll be too drunk to walk."

"Do you want me to come with you?" I asked, glancing around in search of the other Fighters Guild members. Parwen and Penald were standing amidst a group singing about a lady from Wayrest, and Ah-Malz was talking to Mog.

"Only if you're ready to leave the party. It's not like I can't get there on my own."

"I'm ready to go," I said. "We should probably let Ah-Malz know that we're going, though." I began to weave through the crowd towards Ah-Malz and Mog, who paused their conversation when I drew close.

"Enjoying yourself, Alanna?" Mog asked me with a grin.

"I have had a wonderful time," I replied, smiling back. "However, I think I've had enough for tonight. Ah-Malz, I just wanted to let you know that Fadus and I are heading back. I didn't want you wondering where we ran off to."

"That's fine, Panther. Thank you for the notice," Ah-Malz said.

I made my way back to Fadus, who was standing by the door. "Let's go," I said, pushing the door open.

We made our way along the empty streets back to the Fighters Guild hall. I headed straight up the stairs and changed into more comfortable clothes, folding the dress that Parwen had given me on top of my chest of belongings.

"Goodnight, Fadus," I called across the room.

"'Night, Panther."

* * *

**(A/N) I think it's kind of sad that you don't get to go to festivals and such in **_**Oblivion**_**. Well, that's what fanfiction is for.**

**Hey, you know what the date at the end of the chapter is? 1 Morning Star, 433! We're getting down to the wire, and the Main Quest will start soon. As in this chapter. Which I'm posting today. What are you still here for? Go read the next chapter!**


	23. An Argument with Alison

**(A/N) I am so incredibly excited over this chapter. I've been writing in in my mind since I made the decision to write this story, and it's great to finally be posting it. I know I've made you guys wait for a long time (three seconds short of forever), but I'm glad to say that the wait is over. Here it is: Alanna's arrest, the beginning of the Main Quest.**

* * *

_Chapter 22- An Argument with Alison_

"Hello, Alanna!" Luther greeted me as I walked in. "Come on in, sit down. Baurus should be here any minute. You want some comberry wine?"

"That would be great," I replied, pulling my bag off my shoulder and putting it next to me as I sat down in front of the bar. "It's been an interesting trip. Did you know that if you cross a spriggan's path, she'll summon giant bears to fight you?"

"Spriggans are dangerous little things," Luther agreed, handing me a glass of shein. "Beautiful creatures, until they catch sight of you. Then you're usually as good as dead."

"I thought I was going to be dead," I said, sighing. "And I really don't want to spend my vacation rotting on the road between here and Skingrad. It just doesn't sound relaxing to me."

"That it does not, friend. Will you be spending your vacation in the City?"

"Just the first few days, then I'll be on my way to Cheydinhal." I drained my glass, setting it down on the bar. "Do you have a room available for the night?"

"I always have one for you, Alanna," he said with a smile. "More wine?"

"I'll wait until Baurus shows up," I replied. "He'll definitely want to share a few drinks, and I'm not in the mood to get too tipsy."

Luther and I traded some gossip while we waited for Baurus to show up. "There's rumors going around Leyawiin that the new Countess is torturing Argonians," Luther confided. "Nothing too loud, mind you; nobody wants word reaching Countess Valga. But the Argonians in the Castle Prison keep disappearing, so they say."

"It wouldn't surprise me if she was," I said, frowning. "Countess Caro has never been known for her love of beast races, or Dunmer." When I had lived in Chorrol, I had met Lady Alessia a few times while she was on her way to the Chapel. At best, she had refused to acknowledge my presence; sometimes, though, she would mutter racist insults under her breath when she saw me. Once, Dar-Ma had tripped and accidentally fallen into her path, and Alessia had gone into a tirade about filthy lizards always being in her way. The terrified girl had spent an hour crying after the encounter.

"I don't know where she got it, either," Luther said, shaking his head. "Lady Valga never struck me as the type of woman who would condone such behavior."

I shrugged. "Every family tree has a bad fruit or two. I guess even the Great Oak is susceptible to that."

Baurus showed up not long after that. "Well, what a surprise!" he exclaimed. "Good evening, Alanna."

"Hey, Baurus," I said with a smile. "Come on over; we've been waiting for you."

He came over and sat down next to me, accepting a glass of shein from Luther. "How have you been, my friend?"

"I've been better, that's for sure," I replied, shaking my head. "Between the contracts I've been getting lately and the trip here, I'm surprised I'm not dead yet."

Before Baurus could reply, the door opened to reveal Alison Jerick. "Evening, Luther," she said, letting the door slam behind her as she walked to the bar. She put some coins on the bar as she dropped onto the stool. "Get me some ale, please."

Baurus glanced at her, then looked back to me. "Have your contracts been difficult lately?"

"A bit, yes. There have been a few instances where I brushed too close to death for my comfort. The only consolation is that my superiors have noticed. I just got promoted to Defender two days ago, and I was given a two-week vacation."

"Why didn't you tell me you got promoted?" Luther asked. "Congratulations! Here, have a drink on the house." He handed me another glass of shein with a smile.

"What are you planning on doing with your vacation?" Baurus asked me.

"Well, I'm spending a few days here in the City, then I'll be going over to Cheydinhal to visit my friend Dervera," I said. "I'll likely be there a few days, and then I'll head to Chorrol to visit some friends there and possibly get some training in with Modryn Oreyn. Then it will be back to Skingrad, contracts, and goblins."

"I've always wanted to train with Modryn Oreyn," Baurus said. "He's somewhat of a legend at the Palace. My Captain says that she met him and sparred with him once, and apparently he knocked her flat within a minute. And she isn't a delicate creature, either."

"Muthsera Oreyn is tough," I agreed. "It's been a few years since I last sparred with him. I can't wait to see how I fare against him with some more experience."

Alison snorted into her ale. "He'll still knock you flat," she said, not looking at me. "They call you 'Panther', but I've seen you fight. If you're a shadow-lion, then I'm the queen of the Summerset Isles."

"I don't remember anyone asking you, Jerick," I snapped. "At least I managed to make it through training; unlike some drunken Bretons I have the misfortune of knowing."

"Ladies, I must ask you to remain civil while under my roof," Luther said. He looked sternly at Alison. "I have told you before, Miss Jerick, that if you keep acting rudely to my other patrons you won't be welcome here anymore."

Alison ignored him, sneering at me. "Ashborn bitch. Why don't you go back to your gods-curst volcano and throw yourself in it?"

"How about I throw you in it instead?" I replied. "Actually, I'd rather not. Red Mountain doesn't deserve to be polluted by having a thieving piece of Waterfront trash tossed in it."

She stood up and glared at me. "You watch yourself, ashborn, or your next words will be your last," she snarled.

"Alanna, Alison, perhaps you should separate for a while…" Baurus stood as well, looking decidedly uncomfortable at being between us. "If you two start brawling, I'll be forced to arrest the both of you, and I don't really want that."

"You can arrest Alison," I said, glaring at the furious Breton. "I know you're part of the Thieves Guild. And I know that you're the one everybody calls Rumare's Shadow. Hieronymus Lex wants you behind bars almost as badly as he wants the Gray Fox."

"I may be a thief, but at least I don't have to sleep with Modryn Oreyn to get somewhere in this world," she snapped.

"What?" I launched out of my seat, my hand flying to my sword hilt. "How _dare_ you suggest-"

"Oh, please, spare me the act," she said. "I may be a drunk, but I'm not stupid. You went over to his house all the time while I was in Chorrol. You were his favorite trainee. He gave you special treatment. I can put the pieces together." She smirked. "I guess you really are just another ashborn whore."

Before Baurus could stop me, I flew forward, my hands closing around Alison's neck. "Modryn is my _uncle_, you sick bitch!" I shouted, my vision going red. Someone was shouting, but I wasn't paying attention. Alison was struggling, and suddenly I felt her fist connect with my jaw, knocking a few teeth loose. I tasted blood as her fist pulled back for another swing.

A pair of dark hands pulled mine away from Alison's throat, and she stumbled back, gasping. I tried to go after her, but Baurus yanked my wrists behind my back. One of the Imperial Watch guards was restraining Alison the same way. "Alanna, you are now under arrest for assaulting a fellow citizen," Baurus said. "Alison, you are under arrest for thievery. I'm sorry, but I did warn the both of you."

"Gods curse you, ashborn whore!" Alison growled. "I hope you rot in Oblivion!" I replied by spitting blood in her face.

"Enough. Let's go," Baurus said. "Sorry for the disturbance, Luther."

* * *

Alison and I were stripped of our belongings and put into cells on separate ends of the prison hall. Two days later, I was called to a trial where Baurus, Luther, and Alison all testified to my attacking her. I didn't deny my actions, and since Alison had provoked me, I was sentenced to three months in prison and a fine of one hundred gold. I would be released the 30th of Last Seed, 433.

Next was Alison's trial, which had a lot more people in to testify. Their statements, added to the fact that she had stolen goods in her possession at the time of her arrest, earned her a year in prison and a fine of five hundred gold.

Modryn came to visit me not long after my trial. "We give you a vacation, and this is what you do?" he asked, raising his eyebrows at me. "I know Jerick is a piece of trash, Panther, but you should know better than to let her get under your skin like that. What would your mother say if she saw you right now?"

"I'm sorry, Uncle Modryn," I said. "I guess my new promotion is out the window, huh?"

"Indeed it is," he replied sternly. "You've been demoted to Swordsman. You're lucky to have only been demoted that far; Vilena knows that you're a good and dedicated fighter." He frowned. "I'm torn between being ashamed of you for behaving so badly and being proud of you for defending your honor—and mine." He shook his head. "Just behave while you're in here, all right? And don't let yourself waste away. The Fighters Guild expects you to return once you're out of here, and I don't want to have to drag you back to Chorrol to redo your training."

"Yes, Uncle Modryn," I said. "Can you do something for me, though?"

"Depends. What do you need?"

"My mother's necklace… they took it from me when I was arrested," I said. "I don't want anything to happen to it. Can… can you get it back? I just want it to be kept safe. The rest of my things don't matter quite as much, but I don't want the necklace to be damaged."

His eyes softened. "I'll see what I can do. I'll get your things out of the Skingrad hall, too. Come to Chorrol when you get out of here, and I'll have your stuff waiting at my house."

"Thank you. You're the best, Uncle Modryn."

The thump of a guard's boots rang down the hall, then he appeared in my line of sight. "Sorry, Modryn, but your time is up," he said. He looked at me and nodded politely. "Trust me, muthsera; nobody will harm your niece while I'm on duty."

"I worry for those who might try to harm her," Modryn replied. "Take care of yourself, Panther. Walk with virtue—as I know you have been all along."

"See you in three months, Uncle Modryn," I said lightly, giving him the same fake smile I had used before my last contract in Chorrol. He nodded gravely before following the guard away from my cell and out of the prison hall.

* * *

**(A/N) Yay! We're sort of started with the Main Quest! I'm so excited!**

**However, we'll be going back to one chapter a week until further notice, which might be sooner than I think because I'm getting so much done. We'll see what happens.**


	24. Imprisonment

**(A/N) Howdy, pilgrims! I know you're all terribly excited over this chapter, since we're finally starting into the actual Main Quest, but I do have something to mention before we begin.**

* * *

_Chapter 23- Imprisonment_

My first month in prison wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. Since Alison and I had to stay separated—by order of the Watch commander—I was at the very end of the hall, near where the guards sat while not actively patrolling. The guards were always polite to me, which I counted as both a blessing and an annoyance. A blessing because they weren't trying to hurt me; an annoyance because I knew it was because of my uncle. Nobody with half a brain wanted to cross the temperamental Fighters Guild Champion, and he had made it quite clear that his disposition with the guards was linked to my well-being.

My days developed a strange routine; I would wake at first light, when the guard was being changed. Between my awakening and when the guards brought the morning meal, I would sit in quiet meditation. Then I would eat my meal, usually chatting with the guard who had brought it. When they left, I would begin exercising, determined to not let my body fall into disrepair. This would continue until the noon meal, after which we were allowed to go out to the yard. I would continue my exercises out there, practicing my sword drills with a convenient stick I had found. We were in the yard until the evening meal, after which I would sit in meditation until dark. Then I would fall asleep, and the cycle would begin anew. The routine was strange to me after years of working in the Fighters Guild, but it wasn't entirely unwelcome.

One bad thing about being in the prison was that my nightmares of blood and fire now came to me every night. The guards commented on my constant thrashing at night, expressing concerns that I would end up hurting myself on the rough stone walls of my cell. I assured them that it was all right, but I could feel their apprehension. My uncle's fury was something they didn't want turned on them.

* * *

About two months after we were arrested, Alison and I switched cells. Alison and the person in the cell across from her—I hadn't caught his name—frequently got into shouting matches, and it had gotten to the point where the guards had to have them separated, as well.

As I was led to my new cell, I got my first glimpse of the worst Dunmer I had ever had the misfortune to meet—and that included my father and his friends. He leered at me as the guards let me into my cell, his ruby eyes staring at me in a way that made my flesh crawl.

"What a lovely maiden… I must surely be dead, and in the halls of Azura, to look upon such a vision," he said after the guards had left. His voice reminded me of my father's, simpering and oily in a way that grated on my nerves. I realized that this last month of imprisonment was not going to be as pleasant as the first two.

"I highly doubt that the Mother of Roses would permit one such as you in the halls of Moonshadow," I replied dismissively, sitting down to begin my meditations. It was still early in the morning, and I had time to kill before the morning meal was brought out.

"Isn't he just great?" I heard Alison shout from the other end of the hall. "Now it's your turn to deal with him, ashborn!"

"Yes, the sassy Breton lass is right," the mer said, leaning against the bars of his cell door. "Now it is your turn to deal with Valen Dreth." He grinned, a predatory smile that made me idly wonder what he had done to earn a prison sentence. "So, my beautiful rose, what did you do to find yourself in here?"

I gazed at him levelly. "I assaulted someone who angered me," I replied simply. "Unfortunately, we were separated before I could kill her." The underlying threat was clear, and he chuckled.

"So the rose has thorns, it seems," he said. "That's good. They are so boring when they don't have a bit of fire in them. I do believe we are going to have the most wonderful time…"

During the next few weeks my schedule changed little, with the exception of having to listen to Dreth's degrading and often lewd comments while I meditated or exercised. The guards could do little about it; I had to be as far from Alison as possible, and Alison had to be as far from Dreth as possible. Apparently the other wing of the prison was just for people with a life sentence, so none of us could be transferred over there. I just dealt with it the best I could, remembering my uncle telling me to behave myself.

* * *

Something was happening. I wasn't sure what, but whatever it was, it was making the guards nervous wrecks. They were very jumpy, and spoke little to the prisoners. From what I had overheard of them murmuring to one another, something had happened at the Palace.

As I was doing my morning exercises, I heard the door to the prison slam open. "They're here to kill you, lovely Rose," Dreth said, cackling gleefully. He had taken to calling me Rose, since I refused to divulge my name to him. He often told me that the guards were coming to kill me, and I would never make it out of prison. I usually ignored it as the ravings of a madman; he had been in prison for many years, and that could unhinge even the strongest. "What a shame. You almost made it. You had what, three days left? You'll die in here after all…"

"Shut up, Dreth," I snapped. "I want to hear what's going on up there."

Surprisingly, he obeyed, and I cautiously moved up to the door of my cell to listen for activity by the door. There was the thud of boots on the stone steps, suggesting that more guards were coming down the steps. We already had one down here; how many more guards did three unarmed prisoners need?

"Captain Renault, my sons are dead, aren't they?" The voice of an older man. I backed away from the cell door, retreating to the opposite wall.

"I'm sorry, sire. They are." A woman's voice, one that rang with responsibility and authority. "Right now, I need to get you to safety."

Five figures appeared in front of my cell door; an Imperial Watchman, three people wearing silvery armor of a style unfamiliar to me, and an elderly man dressed in richly decorated robes. I pressed my back against the wall, watching them warily.

One of the armored figures—the only woman in the group—looked into my cell and frowned. "Why is there a prisoner in here?" she demanded of the Watchman—one of the prison guards, a polite fellow named Adrian. "This cell is supposed to remain empty!"

"I-I'm sorry, Captain," Adrian said, raising his hands defensively. "I don't assign the cells, ma'am, I just make sure the prisoners don't misbehave."

The woman sighed in disgust. "Whatever. Just open the door." She looked through the bars of the door at me. "You stay right there, prisoner. Don't you dare move."

I nodded in acknowledgement of her words, watching as Adrian unlocked my cell door. The woman strode through first, examining the walls of the cell. Another of the armored figures followed her, his eyes fixed distrustfully on me. The well-dressed old man came in next, his head bowed. And behind the old man…

"Baurus?" I asked, recognizing the final armored figure. The Redguard looked at me, raising his eyebrows.

"Hey, Alanna," he said. His voice was solemn.

The old man had looked up when I spoke, and he walked over to stand before me. "I have seen this face before," he said, lifting my face to meet his eyes. They were a piercing blue, and strangely familiar to me. "You are the one I have seen in my dreams." He sighed. "Then this truly is the day."

I was worried by the strange tone in his voice. "What's going on?" I asked.

"Assassins have infiltrated the Palace and killed my sons," the man said bluntly. "I am their next target."

"You… You're the Emperor, aren't you?" I asked. I should have recognized it immediately. I instantly went on one knee, bowing my head.

"There is no need to kneel, young one." Emperor Uriel Septim VII reached down to take my hand, pulling me to my feet. "These desperate times allow for a lapse in formality. Fate has determined that we may meet."

The sound of grinding stone pulled my attention away from the Emperor. The woman had pressed some hidden button in the wall, and the stone slab that served as my bed was sinking, the stones of the wall behind it shifting to reveal the entrance to a tunnel.

"You have got to be kidding me!" Dreth shouted from across the hall. "All of these years, and the way out was right there?" I held back a smile at the indignant expression on his face.

"Let's go, sire; we have no time to waste," the woman said.

The Emperor looked at me. "You must come with us," he said. "It is of the utmost importance." He held out his arm for me to take, as if I were a lady he was escorting.

"But… I'm supposed to be here," I replied hesitantly. "I've only got three days left."

"Then you are pardoned for whatever crime you have committed," he said simply. "It is unimportant at this time. Now please, come with us. As Captain Renault has mentioned, we cannot tarry here."

_I'm going mad_. That was the only logical explanation I could think of as I took the Emperor's arm and walked by his side through the tunnel that led from my cell.

* * *

**(A/N) Aren't we all just so terribly excited? Even though we all already know what's going to happen?**


	25. The Death of an Emperor

**(A/N) Buckle your seat belts, kiddos. We're going on a feels trip.**

* * *

_Chapter 24-The Death of an Emperor_

The tunnel was dark and obviously hadn't been used in years. I ended up being glad of the Emperor's arm as I stumbled over pieces of fallen brick and stone. He somehow never lost his footing, walking steadily through the darkness as if we were in a funeral procession. The captain walked in front of us, her sword drawn and ready for any danger. Baurus and the other guard were behind us. Being surrounded by armed people who didn't seem to like me much made me acutely aware of the fact that I was unarmed.

The tunnel opened up into a large room with many shadowed alcoves. I didn't trust it at all, but the Emperor led me forward. His bodyguards fanned out, examining the room for danger.

I heard it first; the faint not-quite-a-sound that was created by using magic. A figure in intricate armor leapt out of an alcove, a summoned mace shimmering in their hand. Identical figures leapt from the other alcoves, and they all charged at the Emperor.

The bodyguards moved fast, rushing to engage the assassins before they could reach the Emperor. The man himself drew a fine shortsword that looked as if it had never seen battle. "Protect yourself," he murmured to me under the battle cries of the bodyguards and assassins.

The only way I could protect myself at this point was with magic, but I was spared having to use it. The bodyguards dispatched the assassins efficiently, but when they came back to us, the woman captain was on the ground.

"Are you all right, sire?" the Imperial bodyguard asked.

"I am fine, Glenroy," the Emperor replied. "Captain Renault?"

"She's dead, sire." He bowed his head, but then raised it. "I'm sorry, but we have to keep moving."

The Emperor's eyes were grave. "Very well. Let us go on, then."

Baurus, who had wandered off to attend to Renault's body, came back holding a sword. "Here, Alanna, take this," he said, handing it to me. "You shouldn't be defenseless in a place like this."

"Thank you," I replied, taking the sword. It was a simple steel shortsword; not quite was I was used to working with, but I was in no place to complain. I buckled the plain leather belt, letting the sword rest at my hip. Then I took the arm that the Emperor offered to me, and we continued down a set of stairs to a door.

"I'll take point," Glenroy said to Baurus. Then he turned to glare at me. "I don't want this prisoner following us. She might be working with the assassins."

"We can trust her," the Emperor said. "She will help us."

He spoke with such conviction, such determined belief that what he said was true, that even I was surprised. Why would the Emperor place such trust in me; a Dunmer with a hidden past who he found in the prison? I was sure he didn't even know of my existence until today.

Glenroy backed down, though he didn't look happy about it. "As you wish, sire," he replied grudgingly. "I promise, we will get you to safety. These assassins aren't the first to underestimate the Blades."

The Blades. I had heard of the shadowy order that often worked as the spies of the Empire. I supposed it shouldn't have surprised me to find out that they made up the Emperor's personal guard, as well.

"Let us go on, then," the Emperor said. "Come, young one. We still have a bit of time before we must part." He led me through the doorway and into the tunnel beyond.

* * *

Several tunnels and two attempted assassinations later, we stood at the end of a large hall. "I don't like the look of this," Glenroy said, echoing the thought that had been running through my mind with every open space we entered. "Let me take a look." He moved forward, and I anxiously loosened my sword in its sheath. Just minutes before, I had landed a killing blow to an assassin with it, finally earning a little trust from the Imperial Blade.

"It looks clear," Glenroy called back, and Baurus, the Emperor, and I began to move forward. When we reached him, Glenroy was glaring at a rusted gate.

"It's been barred from the other side, and the hinges have been reinforced recently," he snarled, kicking the gate. Despite its apparently weak appearance, it didn't even rattle. "It's a trap!"

"What about that side passage over there?" Baurus asked, gesturing to an opening in the wall a short distance away.

"It's worth a try. Let's go!" Glenroy drew his sword and went running for the passageway, the Emperor and I not far behind.

The side passage led to a small room with no apparent exit. A sense of foreboding overcame me as I glanced around. It was the perfect place for an ambush.

"It's a dead end," Baurus said, frowning. He looked at Glenroy. "What's your call?"

Before Glenroy could reply, we heard the not-quite-a-sound of a summoned weapon coming into being. "Damn it!" he cried, looking towards the room we had just left. "They're behind us!"

"Well, let's get them!" Baurus replied, running for the other room. He paused, glancing at me. "Stay with the Emperor, Alanna. Guard him with your life."

"I will," I promised, drawing my sword. He nodded, then ran from the room, Glenroy at his side. The sound of battle came quickly after.

The Emperor sighed, letting go of my arm. "My guards are strong and true, but even the might of the Blades cannot stand against the power that rises to destroy us," he said, shaking his head. "The Prince of Destruction awakes. These cutthroats are but his mortal pawns." He reached up and removed the necklace that rested against his chest. "Give me your hand, young one," he ordered.

I held my hand out to him, and he placed the necklace into it, closing my fingers around the large gem. It glowed slightly in my hand, and I was surprised to feel a kind of warmth radiating from it.

"Take the Amulet," he said, his voice urgent. The voice of a dying man, speaking his last wish. "Give it to Jauffre. He alone knows where to find my last son." His gaze trapped me, his bright blue eyes seeming more familiar to me than ever. "Find the last of my blood, Alaurne Ginith, and close shut the jaws of Oblivion."

I was frozen in shock. He knew my name, my true name, and he was telling me to find his son. Forcing myself to respond, I nodded.

"I'll take it from here, Your Majesty," I said, my voice wobbling a little. "I won't forget you."

He smiled, like a father smiling upon his favorite child. "Remember me, young one, and remember my words. This burden is now yours alone. You hold our future in your hands." He placed a hand on my forehead, like Dagail had done so long ago. "Take with you my blessings, and the hope of the Empire."

One of the alcoves was moving, the stones shifting to reveal a dark tunnel. The not-quite-a-sound rang in my ears as a figure leapt out of the alcove, moving at speeds that were too fast to be real. I cried out, trying to yank the Emperor out of the way, but the assassin was too fast. A single swipe of a wicked-looking dagger, and it was over. Uriel Septim VII crumpled, his throat spilling his lifeblood onto the dusty white stones.

The assassin cackled as they stepped over the Emperor's body, leveling their dagger at me. "You chose a bad time to side with the Septims, my friend," a male Altmeri voice rasped, the dagger slashing towards my unarmored chest.

My vision went red, and a wordless snarl erupted from my chest as I launched myself at the Emperor's killer, my sword slashing recklessly. It was pure, unadulterated battle rage, the kind that made Orcs such deadly fighters. It turned me into a furious shadow-lion, slashing at the Altmer with a high, keening battlecry resounding from my throat. The assassin blocked desperately, and though he was wearing a face-covering helmet, I knew he was panicking. I barely registered Baurus' arrival into the room as my battlecry reached a new pitch, and with a single stroke that contained all of my power and emotion, I cut off the assassin's head.

Almost as suddenly as it came on, my rage disappeared, and as I stared down at the decapitated corpse before me, my sword clattered to the ground. I was breathing heavily, something restricting my air.

"Talos save us." I spun towards the sound, and saw Baurus kneeling before the Emperor's body. He looked up at me; my labored breathing, the headless assassin at my feet, the bloody sword nearby.

"We've failed… I've failed…" he murmured, still staring at me. "The Blades are sworn to protect the Emperor, and now he and all his heirs are dead…" He looked to be holding back tears.

I stumbled forward, falling to my knees next to him. "It's not all lost," I said, showing him the necklace clutched in my hand. "The Emperor gave me this. I have to give it to Jauffre."

"Jauffre? Why would Jauffre need the Amulet of Kings?" Baurus asked, staring at the gem in my hand. "It can only be worn by those of the Septim blood…"

"The Emperor told me that there is another heir," I said to him. "If there is an heir, there is still hope."

"Another heir?" He seemed baffled. "I've never heard of another heir. But Jauffre would be the one to know. He is the Grandmaster of the Blades, and knows a lot of things that many people would not wish to."

"Where is Jauffre?" I asked.

"He lives a quiet life as a monk, at Weynon Priory."

"That's outside of Chorrol, right?" He nodded. "I know how to get there."

"First, you need to get out of here," he said, shaking his head as if to clear it. "That passageway must lead to the entrance to the sewers, past the locked gate. That's where we were trying to take the Emperor. It's supposed to be a secret way out of the Imperial City."

"The sewers?" I asked.

"Yeah, the sewers. There are rats and goblins down there, but you're with the Skingrad Fighters Guild. I don't think you'll have much trouble." He looked down at the body before us, his gaze growing somber once more. "I'll stay here to guard the Emperor's body, and to make sure no one follows you. You have to get the Amulet to Jauffre. Got it?"

"Yes," I replied, nodding.

He nodded back. "Then Talos guide you, friend."

* * *

**(A/N) I got really emotional while I was writing the Emperor's last words, and I'm hoping that I managed to convey at least a little of that emotion into the writing.**

**That gate... I always wondered why two fully armored men couldn't break down one pathetic little gate. I still feel that my explanation is pretty weak, but there's only so much you can do.**

**I eliminated the tutorial! I am such a rebel. The tutorial dungeon really annoys me (especially since I've been forced to play it about ten times because my computer won't keep my _Oblivion _save files). So I got rid of it. The Emperor seems like the trusting sort, with those lovely familiar eyes, so I figured that he could trust one little slip of a Dunmer girl enough to let her skip the dungeon.**

**Okay, enough with my rambling. Between computer problems, people problems, and me going back to school, updates might get a little weird. As far as I know, I'm posting next Saturday, but divine intervention (not the nice Morrowind kind) is seriously messing with my life right now. Who knows what's going to happen?**

**Either way, I heart you all, and I'll do my best to get my life in order so I can do what I do best; pleasing you guys!**


	26. Jauffre

**(A/N) Hello! By some sort of miracle, I managed to survive the first week of the school year. It was pretty terrible, and left me very busy. As a result, I couldn't work on editing my chapters until earlier this evening, and that means that my chapters are probably of less quality than usual. Since this chapter and the two after it are all pretty short, I'm going to post all three of them today. Feel free to go ahead and criticize, because I'm not very happy with them myself.**

* * *

_Chapter 25- Jauffre_

The sun was setting when I exited the sewers, and the trip on the Black Road was worse than I had thought it would be. It seemed that every wild creature between the Imperial City and Chorrol was out by the road, eagerly waiting to kill me. As a result, I arrived at Weynon Priory around midnight, exhausted and bleeding from a wolf's bite on my forearm.

When I knocked on the door to the priory house, it was opened almost immediately. An Imperial man in a rough brown robe looked out at me, his brows furrowed. "Hello, traveler. I'm afraid this is a bad time-oh, you're hurt!" He opened the door wider, letting me in.

I found myself facing three more men sitting at a table; a Dunmer and two Bretons. The younger was clad in a black robe; the elder in the same rough brown as the man who had let me in. They looked at me curiously, but I could also see sadness in their eyes. A book was lying on the table: _A Short Life of Uriel Septim VII_. They were mourning the loss of the Emperor.

The elder Breton stood, walking around the table to examine my arm. "From a wolf, I assume?" he asked. I nodded. "If you permit, I can heal it in our chapel. Unless you wish to go into Chorrol?"

"I will be fine," I replied, looking at my arm. I had let worse wounds go without healing. "I have a much more important purpose. Is Grandmaster Jauffre here?"

Their shock at my knowledge of the title was obvious. "That would be me," the elder Breton said after a long pause. "What brings you to me, young Dunmer?"

I glanced warily at the other men in the room. I didn't know how much they knew, and I didn't want to risk releasing a secret that was supposed to remain sealed. "I would prefer that we speak in private," I replied, looking back at Jauffre. "It has to do with the Emperor."

His entire demeanor changed. "Follow me," he said, walking past me to the door.

I anxiously followed him out of the priory house and across the yard to the small chapel. He shut the door firmly behind us, lowering a bar across it. "We can find no more privacy than in here," he assured me. "Do you know something about Emperor Uriel's death?"

I nodded. "I was there when he died."

"What? You had better explain yourself." He looked angry, and I realized that he thought I had been part of the assassination.

"No, I tried to help! You see, I was in prison for assault…"

I told him the entire story: how I only had three days left of my sentence, Captain Renault's outrage at finding me in the cell, the Emperor telling me that it was of the utmost importance that I go with them. I explained everything I remembered about the assassins that had attacked us, from the armor they wore to their strange battle cries. I recounted the Emperor's last words to me, the parts about the Amulet and the last heir.

"Baurus told me how to get out of the sewers, and I tried to get here as fast as possible," I said. "I brought you the Amulet." I held the cloth-wrapped necklace out to him.

He took it from me, carefully unwrapping it to reveal the slightly glowing gem. "By the gods," he murmured. "Oh, Uriel, what mess are you getting me into this time?" He looked up at me, his eyes holding more sadness than before. "Although some may find your story highly unlikely, I know it to be true," he said. "Uriel Septim has always had a habit of creating highly unlikely stories."

I didn't doubt that. "He mentioned something about a 'Prince of Destruction', and he told me to 'close shut the jaws of Oblivion'. Do you know what he meant?"

"The Prince of Destruction…. That is a name I had hoped to never hear again." Jauffre's jaw clenched for a moment, but he took a deep breath. "It is one of the names given to the Daedric Prince Mehrunes Dagon, who I am sure you have heard of."

I bristled at the implication in his voice. "I do not associate with the evil Daedra," I said hotly. "I may be a Dunmer, but I am worshipper of Azura, and I do not condone Her evil siblings."

"Of course." He didn't seem very convinced. "Dagon was involved with Jagar Tharn's plot against the Empire years ago. It doesn't surprise me to find his hand in this." He sighed. "As for 'the jaws of Oblivion', it seems that the Emperor had perceived a threat from Oblivion. If Dagon is involved, I have no doubt that there will be some sort of threat."

"And this threat will be vanquished once we find the heir," I said. "I need to find the Emperor's last son."

"I am one of the few who know of his existence." His expression grew distant. "I used to serve as captain of Uriel's bodyguards. One night, he called me in to his private chambers. A baby boy lay sleeping in a basket. Uriel told me to deliver him somewhere safe. He never told me anything else about the baby, but I knew it was his son." He sighed. "Now, it seems that this illegitimate son is the heir to the Septim Throne."

"Where can I find him?" I asked.

"In the city of Kvatch," he replied. "He serves Akatosh in the Chapel there. His name is Martin."

* * *

I stared at Jauffre, completely floored by what he had said. Martin, the bastard son of the Emperor? Impossible.

But as I thought about it, I decided it wasn't so impossible after all. Actually, it seemed quite likely. My mind conjured images of both Martin and Emperor Uriel, comparing them with a critical eye. They actually looked quite similar, once I really looked at it. I was surprised I hadn't recognized it before.

"No wonder his eyes seemed so familiar," I murmured. Those eyes, like shards of blue ice, piercing down to my very soul and seeing all of my secrets. The ones that I had hated so much when I first met Martin, but now trusted so well. And I had trusted them in the Emperor, too.

"You know Martin?" Jauffre asked.

I nodded. "I'm with the Skingrad Fighters Guild. I go into Kvatch all the time. Martin is a friend of mine."

"Then it is best if you are the one to get him, then," he said. "It would be easier for him if such monumental news is broken to him by a friend, rather than a stranger." He looked me over. "If you would like, I can heal your wound, and you may sleep at the Priory for the night. You will be of no help to Martin if you fall from exhaustion and blood loss."

As much as I now wanted to run for Kvatch, I saw the sense in what he said. "Very well. I can retrieve my armor and supplies from Chorrol in the morning. My uncle has been keeping them for when I get out of prison."

"Your uncle lives in Chorrol?" Jauffre asked. I nodded. "Then you must be Alanna the Panther. We hear of you often when we go into Chorrol for supplies. Modryn Oreyn is very proud of you."

"Thank you for the compliment, sir," I said, smiling slightly.

"Of course." He looked down at my arm. "Let me heal you, and then you should get some rest. You can go to Chorrol and get your things from your uncle once you have slept."


	27. Getting Ready

_Chapter 26- Getting Ready_

I jerked awake, my hand flying to my mouth to choke back a scream. My nightmares had awoken me; they had been steadily growing worse while I was in prison, and the most recent was the most graphic of them all.

The younger Breton was waiting nearby. "Brother Jauffre told me to leave these for you," he said, indicating a small bundle at the foot of the bed. "Your current attire might raise some questions inside the city walls."

I looked down at myself to see that he was right. I was still garbed in the simple prison uniform, now covered in grime and blood from my time with the Emperor and my journey on the Black Road. "Thank you," I replied. He simply nodded, leaving the room.

I changed out of my filthy clothes and into the garments that had been left for me; a plain brown shirt and black pants. The man appeared once more to collect my discarded prison uniform, and I ventured down the steps and out of the priory house.

It was not long before dawn; about five o'clock. If I hurried, I could get into Chorrol and to Modryn's house before he left for the Guild hall. With a wave to the Imperial man who had let me in the night before, I started up the road towards Chorrol.

* * *

Less than half an hour later found me pounding on the door of Modryn's house, hoping that he had not already gone to the Guild hall. I was technically supposed to be in the Imperial Prison with two more days until my sentence was up, and the entire Guild knew it. I didn't want to have to make some sort of awkward excuse to my Guildmates, especially Vilena.

"What in Oblivion do you want?" Modryn asked as he opened the door, blinking in the bright sunrise. "Can't a mer eat his breakfast in peace?" He squinted in the light, his expression turning to one of shock when he recognized me. "Alanna, what are you doing here?"

I pushed past him into the house, motioning for him to shut the door. "It's a long story, and one that I can't tell you about," I said. "Let's just say I was pardoned and allowed to get out of prison early. I need my things, because I don't know what I'm about to face."

"Wait, what's going on?" Modryn asked. "Why were you pardoned? You've only got two days left."

"I'm in a hurry," I replied, evading his question. "Where are my things?"

"You just wait a second," he said, frustration beginning to show on his face. He grabbed my shoulders and forced me into a chair, looking down at me sternly. "You can't just rush in here demanding your stuff when I know you're supposed to be halfway across the province in prison. What's going on, Alanna?"

I sighed. "You're probably going to find out today, anyway," I whispered. "It's the Emperor. He… he was assassinated yesterday."

"What?" His grip on my shoulders tightened. "How do you know this? Alanna, did you…"

"No, I didn't kill him!" I insisted. Why was everyone assuming that lately? "His bodyguards were trying to take him out of the City, and the secret escape route happened to be through my prison cell. The Emperor told me to go with them, because it was important. I was there when he died, and now I have a really important mission that I can't tell you about and I need my things!"

Modryn's eyebrows rose. "Well, there's something," he said. "Sounds like you're getting the makings of a hero, Alanna. Getting out of prison with a mission… That seems to be the way most heroes begin their journeys." He sighed, releasing my shoulders. "Your things are in that chest there." He gestured to a chest by the fireplace.

I launched out of the chair and over to the chest, opening it to find my armor and sword. "Thank you, Uncle Modryn," I said. "I don't know what I would do without you."

"Keep your thanks. I expect a full explanation when you come back, Panther."

I paused. "I don't know whether I'll be able to give you one. It's… complicated."

"Where the Emperor's involved, it usually is," he replied drily. "And I know that I don't want a part of it. I've got to go to the Guild hall. You should probably get moving." He put a hand on my shoulder. "Whatever it is you're doing, Alanna, promise me that you'll be careful."

"I promise, Uncle Modryn."

He smiled slightly. "That's the best I can hope for. Stay safe, and may the moon and star guide your steps." He squeezed my shoulder, then let go, walking out of the house.

* * *

Once I was armed and armored, I did a mental check to make sure I had everything I might need for the journey to Kvatch. I was as prepared as I could be. The only thing I didn't have was the knowledge of what I would face once I got to Kvatch, or the knowledge of what to say to Martin when I got to him. I couldn't just walk up to him and say, "You're the last of the Septims, come with me so the Blades can stick you on the throne."

I considered what I could say as I left Modryn's house and made my way to Chorrol's south gate. How does one tell a friend that he is the illegitimate son and only heir of the recently-assassinated Emperor? Nothing I had learned growing up in House Hlaalu had prepared me for such a conversation. The problem occupied my mind through the gate and well into the Great Forest.

Traversing the Great Forest was easier than I remembered, and before long I reached the shrine to Sanguine. The worshippers welcomed me, inviting me to take a short break with them before moving on again. I stayed long enough for a quick lunch, but soon moved on, intent on reaching Martin as soon as possible. Not long after I left them, the plateau that held Kvatch became visible, and what I saw made my blood freeze cold.


	28. The Camp and The Portal

_Chapter 27- The Camp and The Portal_

The plateau, which had before boasted a few trees, was now completely barren, the ground visibly charred even from this distance. Smoke was rising from the walls of the city, forming a large dark spot in the sky. It was as if the city had been sieged.

I began to run, praying to Azura for the safety of the citizens of Kvatch, especially Martin. Whether She heard my prayers or not, I didn't know, but I kept running.

As I neared the entrance to Belletor's Folly, I saw that Altmer was running towards me. I slowed down, attempting to catch my breath. I had never run so far before, and I now realized the foolishness of it as I tried to restore air to uncooperative lungs. The Altmer slowed as he reached me, then startled me by grabbing my arm and trying to pull me away.

"Come on! Run while there's still time!" he cried, his voice high and panicked. "The Guard still holds the road, but it's only a matter of time before they're overwhelmed!"

"Wait, run from what? What happened here?" I asked, trying to loosen his death-grip on my arm. My voice was surprisingly clear.

"You don't know?" Disbelief broke through the panic in his features, but was quickly taken over again. "Daedra overran Kvatch last night! There were glowing portals outside the walls! Gates to Oblivion itself! There was a huge creature... something out of a nightmare... came right over the walls... blasting fire. They swarmed around it... killing..." He began to sob, his grip on my arm loosening. "I'm getting out of here! Run while you still can!" He began to run again, leaving me frozen on the road.

Daedra overrunning Kvatch… gates to Oblivion… it was worse than I had feared. I started moving again, ignoring the complaint of my overworked muscles. I rounded the first bend in the road, then stopped again as the sight before me registered.

* * *

It was a refugee camp. That was all I could think of. There were tents erected on either side of the road, citizens gathered quietly around small fires. There were so few…

"Shadow-Lion!" I turned to see Sigrid, the Mages Guild alchemist. She was covered in soot, her normally meticulously styled hair hanging loose about her face. "This is a bad time to visit Kvatch, I'm afraid. What are you doing here?"

"I'm looking for Brother Martin," I replied. "Is he around here somewhere?"

Sigrid shook her head, and my heart plummeted. "Many people didn't make it out. He could still be trapped in the City, but were I you, I'd brace myself for the worst." She patted my shoulder, then walked away.

I continued slowly through the camp, seeing faces I knew from my times in Kvatch. Batul gra-Sharob, the local smith who had fixed my armor after my near-death experience at Belletor's Folly. Weedum-Ja, a compulsive gambler at the Kvatch Arena who I had seen in the Fox's Banter a few times. Athrelor, the owner of the general goods store. They were sitting by the fires, their faces switching between disbelief at what had happened to them and grief at what they had lost. I didn't see Tonilia, the woman whose basement I cleared out as my first Fighters Guild contract, nor Edwyn Kingsford, the shifty man who collected gambling money at the Arena. Also missing were Ilav, Oleta, and Martin.

"Nine Divines, if you truly exist and have any care for the world you supposedly watch over, you would have kept your servants safe," I muttered as I passed out of the camp.

Not far up the road, I saw a familiar figure in a plain gray robe standing by the side of the road. "Ilav!" I called out, running towards the priest.

He turned to face me, his elderly face drawn. "Hope is gone," he said, his voice bleak. "The Imperial line is dead. The Covenant is broken. The gods have forsaken us."

My eyes widened at his words. Of all of the priests of any faith that I had spoken to over the years, the priests in Kvatch had always been the most faithful. To hear that Ilav's faith had broken…

"Where are Oleta and Martin?" I asked. If he had been able to escape the city, perhaps they had been able to, as well. "Ilav, did they make it out?"

"No, they are dead!" The disillusioned priest grabbed my shoulders, shaking me violently. "They are all dead, we are all dead! Can't you see? The gods have turned their gaze from us, and we will all be soon destroyed!"

I jerked away from him, startled by his outburst. He fell to his knees, shrieking about how the end had come. I watched him warily for a moment, then continued up the road.

Something was wrong with the sky. I looked up to see that the darkness that I had originally attributed to smoke was in fact storm clouds, boiling black and rumbling with thunder. Since the rest of the sky was the clear blue of early afternoon, I knew that something unnatural was happening. And was it my imagination, or was the sky now turning red?

I came to the top of the plateau to find a scorched battleground. Men in the uniforms of the Kvatch guard were standing behind hastily-erected barricades, weapons at the ready. They seemed to be waiting for something, and as I turned in the direction of their gazes, my jaw dropped.

There was a gigantic flaming portal where the gate to the city was supposed to be. It rippled with fiery light, as tall as the city walls. There was a sound—not one that my ears could detect, yet one that I could sense in my very being. The sound repelled me, warned me that this was not something that was meant to be seen. It did not belong on the mortal plane.

"A gate to Oblivion itself…" I murmured. Almost unconsciously, I moved forward, approaching the barricade and the guards.

"Stand back, civilian!" I was ripped from my almost-trance by the sound of a guard's harsh voice. An Imperial man was glaring at me, his hand held out in a gesture intended to hold me back. "Get back to the encampment at once!"

"Are there people still in the city?" I asked.

"Yes, there are still people trapped in there!" the man snapped. "Brother Martin was leading people to the Chapel, and there might be others hiding elsewhere. The Count and his men are holed up in the castle. We'd go in there and get them out, but with this damned unnatural portal in the way, we can't get into the city!"

I felt hope spark at his words. If Martin was in the Chapel, he might be safe. "Is there any way I can help?"

The guard looked at me incredulously. "You want to help? You're kidding, right?"

"I can fight," I replied. "If there's any way I can help, I'll do it."

He looked me over, nodding to himself. "Well, there is one thing you might be able to do," he said. "It is incredibly dangerous, but if you are serious…"

"Tell me what to do," I said. "I'm ready for anything." Foolhardy words, but I needed to say them before I backed down.

"Very well. While that infernal Oblivion Gate still stands, I don't dare leave the camp undefended. Are you willing to try and close it?"

I swallowed, looking towards the fiery portal. "If I can, yes," I replied.

"Good." His eyes were solemn. "I don't know how to close it, but it must be possible, because the enemy closed the ones they opened during the initial attack. I sent men in to see if they could find a way to shut it." He paused for a moment, watching my reaction. "They haven't come back. If you can get in there, find out what happened to them. If they're alive, help them finish the job. If not, see what you can do on your own."

I nodded, keeping my face blank. "I'll do my best, come victory or the gardens of Moonshadow," I said.

"Good luck. It's a brave thing you're doing, sera…"

"Alanna." I held my hand out for him to shake, not looking away from the portal.

"Savlian Matius," he replied, shaking my hand. "We'll be waiting when you come out of there."

I nodded wordlessly, releasing his hand and walking past the barricades towards the portal. The sound that wasn't a sound grew louder, until I felt it was deafening me. I stood before the portal, seeing a kind of shimmering reflection in the unnatural flames. I was but a single mortal; what chance did I have of facing Oblivion and defeating it? None of my preparations were enough to deal with this.

_No. _My jaw clenched, and I drew my sword, glaring at my fiery reflection. _I _will_ face Oblivion, and I _will _defeat it. I am the Shadow-Lion, and I am the guard against the breaking of Dawn_.

I wasn't sure why the words from Dagail's prophecy popped into my head at that moment, but they gave me the courage to move forward. With a ferocious snarl worthy of the most deadly panther, I leapt through the portal, only to freeze once more as I found the scene of my worst nightmares.

* * *

**(A/N) Well, here we are. The Gate is next; hopefully it will be a slightly better chapter than these ones. I have been so drained lately that it's a miracle I can do anything. ****I**** swear, I'm going to join the Mages Guild and get into the Arcane University just so that I can make a spell that drains Willpower. It's going to be named "High School".**

**Enough of my complaining; I want to hear yours! Go ahead and leave me a review with what you thought of these chapters. I tried to make them a bit less "game-y" than usual, but I'm concerned about how they turned out. I hate this part of the game, and I think that reflects in the quality of my writing.**


	29. The Deadlands

**(A/N) Greetings, seras and muthseras! I apologize for the late update; I was given a surprise visit to my grandma's house, and therefore could not access my files to upload. But I am here now, and with a lovely chapter that is longer than usual. I hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

_Chapter 28- The Deadlands_

A barren landscape, a blood-red sky that boiled with thunder and pitch-black clouds, a tall tower. It was the setting of the nightmares I had suffered through my entire life. Only now did I realize that those nightmares were but prophecies of what I now faced.

I was standing on a hill overlooking a bridge large enough to let an army pass over it. It spanned across a lake of lava, a giant gate halfway across it. Beyond the gate, I could see the tower. The air was hot and dry, the ground cracked beneath my feet. Small clumps of blood-red grass grew in some places, but other than that, the place was devoid of plant life.

A frenzied shout tore me from my horrified examination of my surroundings, and I turned to see a figure in Kvatch armor fighting a group of what could only be scamps. I ran over to help, slashing at the creatures and hitting them with powerful blasts of lightning.

When all of the scamps were dead, the guard turned to me. "I never thought I'd see another friendly face!" he exclaimed, his eyes wide and frightened. "Captain Matius sent us in to try and close the gate. We were ambushed, trapped, and picked off. They took Menien off to the big tower. We've got to save him!"

"Wait!" I grabbed his arm; he was trying to run towards the bridge. "I'll save Menien, if I can. Go back; Captain Matius needs all the help he can get on the barricade." As much as I feared being alone, the guards outside needed him more.

"He's still alive? I thought I was the only one left!" He smiled, his hope restored. "All right. I'll get out of here and let the Captain know what's going on. Are you sure you'll be all right alone?"

"I'll manage. Just let the Captain know what happened, and tell him that I'll find a way."

He nodded. "Good luck, then," he said, then ran off towards the portal back to Tamriel. I looked after him for a moment, feeling slightly envious, but then turned towards the bridge. If I could swing around that gate… Well, it wasn't like I had much to lose. I set off, trying to avoid looking at the bodies of the other Kvatch guards that were strewn across the bridge.

I reached the gate and quickly searched for any controls to open it. Finding none, I took a deep breath, prayed to Azura for preservation, and grabbed the edge. I managed to swing around it without falling into the lava, and so I continued on my way, heading towards the nightmarish tower.

A Dremora was waiting for me at the other side of the bridge, his sword out and ready for battle. He shouted in a guttural tongue that I couldn't quite understand, then charged at me, his blade arcing down to try to cleave my head from my neck.

I could tell immediately that I was not strong enough to block such a powerful blow, so I hurriedly dodged and made my counterattack while he was unbalanced. I managed to cut his unarmored wrist, making him shout in pain. Dark blood dripped from the wound as he attacked me again.

He was very strong, but encumbered by his heavy armor. I would never have been able to withstand a blow from his sword, but I was light enough and agile enough to avoid getting hit. I danced around him, attacking the parts of him not covered by his armor, until I finally got a chance at his neck.

The Dremora fell with a gurgling roar as I drove my sword into his neck. I stared down at the body, trying to hold myself together. I was in Oblivion; the Deadlands, if Jauffre was to be believed and Mehrunes Dagon was behind this. I had just killed a Dremora.

"Azura, my Lady, preserve me through this nightmare," I whispered, still staring at my fallen foe. I shook myself, turning to continue along the path to the tower of my nightmares.

I reached the base of the tower with little trouble, only finding a couple of scamps in my way. For a moment, I stared at the gigantic door, my eyes drawn to the Daedric letter _oht_ carved into it, and the words carved into either side. Growing up in Morrowind had made me learn both the Tamrielic alphabet and Daedric runes, and therefore I could read the words on the sides of the door.

_OBLIVION AWAITS_

_It certainly does,_ I thought to myself, summoning my courage and pushing the door open.

* * *

The bottom level of the tower was dominated by what seemed to be a pool of lava, with a column of fire stretching from the center up as far as I could see. A scamp and a clannfear were wandering around the edges of the pool, and I found myself wishing I had my bow with me so that I could shoot them down.

But while I didn't have my bow, I did have magic, and I knew that lesser Daedra were susceptible to lightning. Charging spells in my palms, I released them towards the Daedra, watching them fall shrieking into the lava pool.

Moving forward, I circled the pool, searching for a way to reach the upper levels of the tower. I found a door, and opened it, poking my head through to find a hallway clear of Daedra. A ramp curved upwards from my vantage point, and I realized that it was the way up the tower. I slipped through the door, advancing carefully up the ramp with my sword at the ready.

After a few fights and plenty of climbing, I found myself in a room with three doors. I tried to open one of them, but found it locked tightly. The opposite door was locked, as well.

I approached the middle door, pushing it open to find that it led to a thin, precarious-looking bridge connecting the tower I was in to one of the smaller towers. I carefully stepped onto it, relieved to feel solid stone beneath my feet, but then fell to my knees when I realized how high up I was.

I had never had much of a problem with heights before, but the barren ground was a dizzying distance below me. I hadn't realized how far up I had gone in the tower. My resolve weakened a hair, and I was tempted to run back into the tower, down to the ground, and right back through the Gate.

_No._ I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply. _Jauffre is counting on me to save Martin._ The thought of my friend trapped in the Chapel was enough to let me move forward, crouched to maintain my balance. I kept my eyes on the stone in front of me, trying to keep my gaze fixed there. It didn't always work, and occasionally I would freeze up as I mentally calculated how fast I would die from such a fall.

After what seemed like hours, but couldn't have been more than a minute, I was on the other side of the bridge. I sighed in relief as I straightened, pulling my sword out of its sheath and preparing myself for whatever was on the other side. Taking another deep breath for courage, I pushed the door open.

I entered the tower and found myself on a ramp that led to a glassy platform. A Dremora was pacing in front of a suspended cage, but turned when I stepped onto the platform. "You should not be here, mortal!" he growled, swinging his mace at me threateningly.

"I'm here for Menien," I said coolly, looking at the cage. Inside was a man clad only in a pair of pants, looking completely battered. His eyes, however, were staring at me with what looked like hope. He had to be the Kvatch guard that had been taken prisoner.

"Foolish mortal. You will not survive!" The Dremora launched himself at me, roaring in his guttural language.

A Dremora with a mace was easier to fight than a Dremora with a longsword, I had learned. The ones with maces seemed to be of a lower rank in the hierarchy, and therefore had less skill. They were still formidable, however, and I narrowly missed having my shoulder crushed by my opponent's deadly weapon.

I got a lucky hit on the Dremora, and he went down with a pained roar. When I was sure he was dead, I ran to the cage.

"You're Menien, right?" I asked the man inside. "Savlian Matius sent me."

"Yes," he replied, seemingly with difficulty. "Get… the key… from his body. You must… get to the top… of the large tower. Find… the Sigil Stone. Remove… it, and the Gate will… close." He seemed to be slipping in and out of consciousness, and I was worried that he would soon die.

"I have to get you out of here," I said. "Once the Gate is closed, we can get you to Oleta." I prayed that Oleta was still alive and able to heal.

"No… time. I'm dead… already. You have… saved me." His hand reached through the bars of the cage, his eyes fluttering. "Close… the Gate. Tell Savlian… he did well… to send you."

I reached out and took the man's hand, and he smiled. "Goodbye… stranger. At least… my last sight… is a friendly face." His eyes closed, and the hand in mine went limp.

I felt tears welling up, and tightly closed my eyes. "May whatever gods watched over you in life watch over your soul in death," I murmured, letting go of his hand.

Turning away from the dead man, I went to the body of the Dremora. There was a key at his belt, one that seemed made of ebony. I took it, and with one last look at the body of Menien, I walked down the ramp and to the door to the bridge.

I was now numb to the scene of terror surrounding me. I walked across the bridge, no longer worrying about falling. There was no room for fear, no room for worry. There was only a grim sense of purpose. I had to close the Gate and avenge Menien and the other Kvatch soldiers who had died trying to protect their city. I had to open the way into Kvatch so that the citizens in the Chapel and the Castle could be rescued.

The key I had picked up fit perfectly into the lock of the door I had been trying to get through, and it opened to reveal the ramp I needed. I pocketed the key as I made my way up the ramp, my sword out and ready for any trouble.

I noticed once I got into the central part of the tower that I was close to the top. Well, that was a relief. I followed the ramp up to a small platform, fighting and killing a Dremora mage. Finding a glowing section of the platform, I went to investigate, and found with a shock that it was the way up to the next level. It moved up without warning, making me jerk and nearly fall. When it reached the next level, I scrambled off of it, then rushed for the ramp.

There was one door left. It was locked, but my key made short work of it. One ramp later, I found myself at the edge of a large room. A staircase of claws led up to a higher level, and from there a ramp that seemed made of flesh rose to a tall platform. The column of fire that had risen from the bottom level of the tower ended here, and at its peak floated a smooth round stone.

There were two Dremora in this room, and they attacked me together, one attempting to shatter my ribcage while the other assaulted me with lightning. It took all of the agility and speed I could muster, but I managed to dodge both of them and, by some miracle, kill them.

I approached the column of fire, feeling the heat soaking through my armor. It was as if I were standing at the edge of Red Mountain, and it was strangely exhilarating. A strange sense of pride filled me as I stood in the heat that could possibly kill a person of another race. I was a Dunmer, made to endure heat such as this. Like my ancestors before me, my spirit was being forged in fire and ash, and I would come out triumphant. I felt a smile on my lips as I reached out and pulled the Sigil Stone from its place in the column of fire.

The reaction was immediate. There was a sound—a roar of fury, of vengeance—as the column of fire destabilized and exploded. I was pushed back, falling to my knees as the tower began to shake uncontrollably. Just as I was certain that I was going to die in the hellish tower that was falling around me, there was a blinding light, and I felt something pulling me away.

* * *

**(A/N) I'm kind of sad that the Doc Manager will only use one font, because I originally had "OBLIVION AWAITS" in the Daedric alphabet (yeah, I'm so much of a nerd that I have the Daedric alphabet as a font on my computer. You can get it and the dovah alphabet from UESP). I think it would have looked a bit cooler in the runes.**

**I should be posting on Saturday next week, but that depends on whether I actually finish the chapter. I've written it and re-written it at least three times already, because I'm really concerned about it. It's _the_ chapter, and therefore I want it to be completely perfect. I'll keep working on it this week (after my boatload of homework). Behave, my dears, and I should see you all next week!**


	30. Finding the Heir

**(A/N) Hello! I apologize for my later-than-usual update (it's almost 11 PM right now), but never fear, for Chapter 29 has finally arrived! I must admit, I'm pretty terrified about this chapter. I rewrote it about three times, and I'm still concerned about it. This is an incredibly important chapter, after all, and I want it to be the best it can be. Go ahead and read it, and then don't hesitate to throw your comments and criticisms. As I've mentioned before, I'm really good at dodging.**

* * *

_Chapter 29- Finding the Heir_

When I opened my eyes, I was kneeling on the ground outside of Kvatch. Night had fallen, and figures with flickering torches were running towards me.

Savlian Matius reached me first. "I knew you could close it!" he exclaimed, a grin lighting his face. "This is our chance! Come on, let's go save the people in the Chapel."

I got to my feet, surprised to find the Sigil Stone still in my hands. Savlian looked at it, his smile fading. "What is that?" he asked.

"It's the key to the Gate," I replied softly, examining the stone. It was smooth and very dark, drinking in the light from Savlian's torch. It was an unnatural thing, not meant to be in Tamriel, but it was my prize for closing the Gate.

I put the Stone in my travel pack, shoving it a little to get it to fit, then nodded to Savlian. "Let's go."

We charged through the gate to Kvatch, and though I didn't stop, I was dismayed at the destruction. The beautiful main plaza that had so entranced me my first time in the city was in ruins, the buildings now heaps of rubble. The steeple of the Chapel had come off, lying in the street with its lovely windows broken. Bodies were strewn across the stones, citizens and daedra alike. There were far more dead citizens than dead daedra.

A horde of scamps rushed at us, a Dremora wielding a sword not far behind. While the guards took care of the scamps, I engaged the Dremora, dancing underneath his sword and beginning my own attack. Sometimes, being smaller than your enemies was a good thing.

By the time the guards finished with the scamps, I had the Dremora on the ground, dark blood pumping out of a gash in its throat. "Good work," Savlian said, clapping me on the shoulder. "It's safe to pull those people out of the Chapel. Let's go make sure they're all right."

I forced myself to walk beside Savlian and not rush ahead into the Chapel. _Azura, please, don't let me be too late._ We were walking too slowly. I needed to see Martin before I drove myself mad.

Finally, Savlian opened the door to the Chapel, walking inside solemnly. I followed, immediately looking around.

There were only six people in the room, two of them wearing Kvatch guard armor. Two were citizens who I didn't recognize. Oleta was standing by the steps, looking at us with hope in her brown eyes. And kneeling by the altar, his chestnut hair hiding his face…

I broke away from the group of guards, walking towards Martin. He gave no sign that he noticed my approach, remaining still before the altar of the gods that had not protected him. I knelt beside him, reaching out to touch his shoulder.

He looked up, his icy blue eyes reflecting his despair. "I tried to save as many as I could," he said, his voice bleak.

"I heard that you led a group here." I glanced around, taking in the tiny group that was being rounded up by the guards. Was this really all that was left?

"Some left. We tried to convince them to stay, but they left anyway. They… they probably didn't make it far." His head bowed again, and I heard his breath catch in what was likely a sob.

This poor man. His home, his friends, destroyed by the daedra. No matter what sadness I felt at Kvatch's fate, he had to be feeling it a hundred times worse. Already, tragedy had stooped those broad shoulders, had created shadows in those icy eyes that would likely never fade. His dreams would be as tortured as mine; worse, probably.

As terrible as I felt about it, I knew that I was about to make his ordeal even harder. "Martin, I have to get you out of here," I murmured to him. "You aren't safe here."

His head came up, his eyes outraged through the veil of tears that were kept back through sheer power of will. "Of course I'm not safe here. Nobody is safe here. The daedra…" His voice trailed off, and he swallowed, trying to maintain his composure. "The daedra have destroyed everything. All last night, all of today, I prayed to Akatosh for deliverance from this nightmare. There was no help, only more daedra, more destruction. The Emperor is dead, Kvatch is destroyed… Where are the gods, Alanna? I have seen plenty of proof that the Daedra are working, but why haven't the Divines shown themselves?"

No. Not Martin, too. It was painful to see Ilav lose his faith, but Martin… Martin was the most devoted man I knew. If his faith was slipping…

"The Divines have delivered you, Martin," I said, touching his shoulder. "The attack is over, and you are alive. Is that not deliverance?" No matter what happened, I couldn't let him lose his faith. I was uncertain of what consequences it would have on his mental well-being, or my own. Our worlds were turned upside-down already, and I sensed that it would only get worse. We both needed our faith to keep us strong.

"I'm not sure whether it is deliverance or punishment," he muttered. "I am having trouble understanding the gods right now. If this is part of some divine plan, I'm not sure I want to be a part of it."

"Whether there is a plan or not, I don't think you have much of a choice," I said. "Please, let us leave this building. I have something important to tell you, and I don't want to speak here."

I stood, and after a moment's hesitation, Martin followed suit, trailing behind me as I walked towards the doors of the Chapel. The civilians were gone—down to the encampment, I assumed. The guards had formed a small group and were discussing their plans to retake the castle. As much as I wanted to help them, I had bigger things to deal with.

We left the Chapel, and I had gone forward several steps before realizing that Martin was no longer next to me. I turned around to see him still on the steps of the Chapel, staring over the ruined plaza in anguish.

"Martin…" I walked back to him, mentally cursing myself. I should have realized that the sight of the ravaged city might be too much. In my worry over what to say, I was completely forgetting what little tact I had.

"This place… it was my entire life." His voice was so quiet, his eyes wide as they took in the carnage. "And all of it has been destroyed…" A single tear managed to escape his composure, trailing silently down his cheek.

I didn't know what to say. What was there to say? No honeyed House Hlaalu words could assuage desolation of this magnitude. None of my lessons had taught me to console the refugees of a destroyed city. I had no words, and it was a strange experience for me. Although I despised the House of my childhood, I had always instinctively relied on my Hlaalu tongue. For the first time ever, I was completely powerless.

No, that wasn't true. I did not have the words, but I had actions. I reached out and took Martin's hand, meeting his gaze as steadily as I could. My eyes told him what words could not accurately say; that I knew his pain, and that although almost all else was lost, he still had me.

His expression told me that he had understood my silent message. Gently squeezing my hand, he nodded for me to proceed.

I led Martin across the plaza, through the gate, out towards the road. He was silent, clinging to my hand like a lifeline. I admired his strength; had I been in his place, I would have collapsed into a crying mess, I was sure.

Once we had gone far enough down the road that the destruction was surrounding us, I stopped. "Sit down," I ordered, gesturing to a spot in the grass by the side of the road. Martin obeyed silently, and I sat down facing him. His icy eyes were fixed on me, a glimmer of curiosity peeking through his sorrow. Once, that curiosity had annoyed me beyond belief. Now, however, it gave me hope; hope that he could recover from this devastating loss.

"I… I am unsure where to start," I said quietly, my eyes focused on his to watch his reactions.

He nodded in understanding. "Then start here: Why did you come to Kvatch?"

Well, I supposed it was as a good a place to start as any. I went for the direct approach. "I had to find you," I replied.

He looked slightly surprised. "You _had_ to find me?" he asked. I nodded silently. "Why?"

I bit my lip, trying to come up with a response that wouldn't completely shock him. "I think I had better start at the beginning," I said. "Did you hear about my arrest?"

"Yes." His brows furrowed in disapproval. "I believe I told you once that your temper would get you into trouble. You should not have let it govern your actions as you did." He held up a hand to stop my protest. "It does not matter at the present time. What does your arrest have to do with finding me?"

"Well, I had three days left…"

I recounted the entire experience; starting with the Emperor coming into my cell and saying that he had seen my face in his dreams. As I repeated the Emperor's last words, I felt tears of my own start to form, and Martin squeezed my hand. I had forgotten that he was still holding it.

"Did you kill the assassin?" he asked as I took a break to recollect my composure. I had just told him of the Altmeri assassin that had murdered the Emperor.

I nodded. "I went into a battle rage and took his head off."

I continued my story from there, beginning with Baurus telling me where to find Jauffre. I told him what Jauffre had said about the Prince of Destruction, and the story of the baby in the basket.

"He told me that the Emperor's son lives in Kvatch," I said, watching Martin carefully. "That he serves in the Chapel of Akatosh." I gripped his hand tightly. "You are the last Septim heir, Martin."

* * *

Martin looked stunned for a moment, but then shook his head vehemently. "I know that you do not lie, Alanna, but you must have been misled," he said. "My father was a farmer; he died when I was a boy. I cannot be the Emperor's son."

I shook my own head. "Whether you want to believe it or not, it cannot change the truth," I said. "You are the Emperor's last son, and therefore you are in terrible danger. I need you to come with me, Martin."

"Alanna…" He looked torn. "I cannot leave Kvatch like this. I have a duty to these people; I must help them get through this tragedy."

I sighed. I knew what I had to say to convince him, but I knew it would likely destroy him. "Martin, every minute you stay here places the others in more danger," I said. "The enemy knows who you are, what you are. Do you think the Daedra attacked Kvatch at random?"

His eyes widened, and I knew that my words had worked. "The entire city destroyed, so many people dead… because they think I'm the Emperor's son?"

The expression of guilt on his face pained me, but I knew that it was the only way to get him to cooperate. "I'm sorry, but I have to get you out of here." He nodded silently, and I felt terrible for having to do this to him.

"We should go, then," he said, looking away from me. He released my hand, standing up. "I place myself in your hands, Alanna. We should proceed to Weynon Priory."

I stood, nodding silently and beginning to walk down the road. I knew that he would have to take some time to adjust himself to these revelations. I prayed to Azura that he would be able to. All of Tamriel depended on it.

* * *

**(A/N) 'Dem feels, bro... I've been spending _way_ too much time on the Internet.**

**Anyway, I hope that everybody likes this chapter. I'm praying to Azura that my teachers decide not to pile too much homework on me this week so I can work on the next chapter. For now, though, I think it's time for this Cheychey to head to bed. With luck, I shall see you all next week!**


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